


In the First Degree

by elphiemolizbethbau



Series: In the First Degree [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Sexual assault recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 82,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22947199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elphiemolizbethbau/pseuds/elphiemolizbethbau
Summary: In the immediate aftermath of being drugged and assaulted, Amanda must come to terms with what it is to be the victim of a sex crime. Supported by Olivia and the SVU team, she gets a look at the criminal justice system from the other side of the lens, and learns what it truly means to be a survivor. Established Rolivia. TRIGGER WARNING//discussion of rape. Details inside!
Relationships: Olivia Benson/Amanda Rollins
Series: In the First Degree [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747303
Comments: 119
Kudos: 70





	1. Arrest Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: It’s time for a new Rolivia story! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.  
> Okay, so here’s some information you need to know—  
> This is established Rolivia, and it takes place some time during season 13. Cabot is the ADA (because I have the power here) . So the team consists of Cragen, Olivia, Amanda, Amaro, and Fin. There is a slight AU with Amanda’s backstory, but all will be explained. The story will be broken up into seven main parts (Arrest, Arraignment, Indictment, Trial, Conviction, Sentencing, and Time), with each part consisting of two chapters, for a total of fourteen chapters in this story. (It is not at all related to my other story, Something Good, but you should still go read that if you haven’t!)  
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Arrest Part 1

The floor was cold. Cold was all the detective would allow herself to think about. Cold was the only sensation she could handle in this moment. She needed to focus on something, anything, as she fought the warmth and comfort of the beckoning oblivion.

How long had it been?

How long had she been lying there, unable to move, willing herself to feel no pain—just cold.

How long had it been since he had left, and where did he go? She couldn’t turn her head to look. 

Had they found her phone yet? Did Olivia even know she was gone? How long until someone got to her? Or, even more inviting, how long until she allowed herself to let go, to slip away? Was surviving even worth it?

All Amanda had left was time, and she knew it was running out.  
________________________________________________________________________  
Olivia walked into the squad room earlier that day carrying coffee. 

Captain Cragen stood up to greet her. “Liv, have you seen Rollins?” 

If Amanda’s location needed to be known, the whole squad knew to ask Olivia, due to the fact that they had been dating since shortly after the blonde joined the team. Once the older detective had processed Elliot’s leaving enough to allow herself to let Amanda in, the two became fast friends, bonding over the experience of being a female cop and the stress and strain of being in SVU. 

Olivia eyed her captain and walked towards him, confused, before meeting the worried gazes of Amaro and Fin, placing her disposable cup down on a random desk. “Not since this morning. She had court, why?”

Cragen met his detective in her approach, sitting down on the corner of a desk. “I called for an update, and it went straight to voicemail.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” Fin advised, seeing Olivia’s eyes widen. “Sometimes phones just die.”

Olivia shook her head, pulling out her cellphone. “Amanda doesn’t turn off her phone while we’re at work, she just silences it and puts it on power saver.” The brunette pressed speed dial 1 before pressing the phone to her ear. “We agreed months ago to just put our phones on silent, so we can be sure the other is safe. Dammit,” she swore, “voicemail. I’m gonna call Alex.”

Before she could though, the ADA came marching into the precinct. “Does anyone care to explain to me why my outcry witness didn’t show up to court this morning and why she didn’t even have the courtesy to pick up when I called?”

Amaro balked. “Wait, she didn’t show up to court?”

“That’s not possible,” Benson asserted, crossing her arms. “I dropped her off this morning.”

Alex turned to Olivia. “Liv,” she sighed, “I don’t blame you for wanting to protect her, but please don’t lie to me.”

“No, counselor,” she stressed, conveying the seriousness of her words, “I watched her walk into the building. She was there. I’m just as confused as you are.”

Cragen stood up then, interjecting. “So, Benson dropped Rollins off at the courthouse, but Cabot never saw her, and none of you has had any contact with her since?” The ADA and all three detectives nodded, varying degrees of worry evident on their faces. “Alex, when was the last time you heard from her?”

“Last night when I told her I was calling her today.” Suddenly, the severity of the situation became clear to the normally cool attorney. “Olivia, you mean to say you have no idea where she is?”

“Until thirty seconds ago,” the brunette explained, panic rising in her voice, “I thought she was testifying. We’ve got to get to the courthouse.” Olivia grabbed her coat, gesturing for Alex to follow her out of the squad room.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Liv. Hold on a second.” Captain Cragen spoke up to get the women’s attention. “We don’t know that something is wrong here.”

Olivia didn’t have time for this. She placed her hands on her hips, scoffing for a moment and eyeing her captain in a frustrated manner, feeling anxiety take over her body. “Captain,” she spoke shakily, a combination of anger and terror preventing her from keeping her voice steady, “you may think that Amanda would just abandon Alex and a vic in court, but I don’t. I know she’s fairly new to SVU, but she’s as dedicated as the rest of us. Something is wrong. If you don’t trust her, then trust me. And if you don’t trust me, then just stay out of my way.” 

The detective turned on her heels, fully intending to investigate this situation with or without permission from the captain and with or without the help of her team. “Wait. Liv!” Olivia made the conscious decision to ignore her superior officer’s command, willing to accept whatever consequence came her way because of it. But the consequences of ignoring her girlfriend being missing—those she would never even consider accepting. 

Cragen sighed as Olivia entered an elevator. “Fin, Amaro, follow her. Keep me updated.”

Olivia was glad to be an elevator ahead of Fin and Amaro. It’s not that she didn’t want their help, but she definitely didn’t want their platitudes and empty guarantees about Amanda’s safety. She had known the younger woman for almost a year at this point and they hadn’t even been dating for six months yet, but they had fallen hard and fast for each other, each woman seeing and filling an emptiness in the other that neither had fully realized in themselves. So, though the quantity part of their relationship was still rather small, the quality was there, and a sharp pain ripped through Olivia’s chest at the thought that all they had had so far could be all they would ever have.

No.

She couldn’t allow herself to think that way. Surely her years of being in SVU had made her paranoid. Maybe Amanda’s phone had died, and maybe she did have a good reason for not being in court. Had she been threatened? Olivia shook her head at herself as she turned the key in the ignition of her car, racing to beat her colleagues out of the parking lot so that they couldn’t stop her. It couldn’t be. The defendant in the case Alex was currently prosecuting was rather puny, and though he had the sexist advantage of a “he said/she said” defense on his side, there was no way he had the kind of connections for witness tampering. And though Cragen didn’t seem to trust the young detective all that much yet, Olivia certainly did. There was absolutely no way the blonde had simply decided to shut off her phone and leave Cabot without an outcry witness.

But that could only mean one thing. Amanda was in danger. Could she have just gotten hurt? Maybe whatever happened wasn’t a big deal? Olivia anxiously tapped her fingers against the steering wheel at a red light in the Manhattan traffic. She knew her girlfriend better than that. They had a deal. They acknowledged their job came with risk, and they always checked in with each other. Always.

Slamming on the gas and getting honked at, the seasoned SVU detective regretted not taking one of the police cars. She didn’t even have sirens at her disposal, so she had to drive like someone who wasn’t imagining the worst case scenario, who wasn’t petrified that she’d never see the love of her life again, who could ignore the pictures permeating her mind—pictures of Amanda terrified and alone, pictures of Amanda struggling and in pain, pictures of Amanda surely blaming herself, pictures of Amanda on an ME’s slab. Olivia took a chance and ran a red light. She knew it was a dumb decision, and she would be of no use to her girlfriend flattened like a pancake, but it was a choice she couldn’t stop herself from making. She reminded herself that it was possible she had time.

She had time. But did Amanda?

Suddenly, Olivia’s phone rang. She picked it up without looking at the caller ID. “Amanda?”

“Sorry, Liv, it’s Alex,” she heard a regretful voice on the other side of the call. “I’m at the courthouse with Fin and Amaro, and—”

“Wait, you’re there already? How did you get there so fast?” Olivia pushed harder on her gas pedal. She knew her destination was just around the corner, but in her panic, time seemed to have slowed to a halt. How slow was time going by for Amanda?

“I know a shortcut, which I would have told you about if you hadn’t run out so fast, but that’s neither here nor there. Olivia, we found Amanda’s phone in a trash can by the courthouse entrance.”

Olivia made her last right turn, and she could see the building in the distance. “Have you notified CSU?” The sound of Alex’s voice became far away as the brunette could focus only on where she was heading. Amanda was probably not even there, and yet all she could think about was getting to the courthouse.

“Yes, and they’re on their way. Her phone turned on, but we need the password.” Alex waited for a response but received only silence. “Liv.”

She was brought back to reality at the sound of her nickname. “What?”

“Olivia, the password to Amanda’s phone. What is it?”

“Oh, um. Christmas. Our first kiss,” she answered, still somewhat absent. How could something that was half a year away feel like it happened yesterday? The time had gone by so fast, too fast. God, Olivia wished she could have slowed it all down, appreciated it in the moment. She should have known that this would happen, that her life would possibly change forever in a single day.

She heard Alex on the other end tell someone, “Amaro, try one-two-two-five.” Christmas had been so special. The past six months had been so special. Would she spend the rest of her life looking back on her relationship with Amanda as a bittersweet memory that ended in tragedy? Was her girlfriend even still alive?

The detective steeled herself for whatever the next several hours, days, weeks would bring. “I’m pulling in now.” As she walked up the courthouse steps, she caught sight of her colleague standing just inside the building. Amaro handed her Amanda’s phone. “Had she received any texts?”

“Nothing that she hasn’t deleted,” Fin answered Olivia as she unlocked the cellphone. “CSU is going to dig deeper than we can. But Liv,” he added, placing a hand on her shoulder, “the phone was towards  
the top of the garbage pile, which means it hasn’t been that long since she tossed it, and she turned it off fully charged in the first garbage can in the building. I think she wanted us to find it.”

“Okay, so if she’s leaving us breadcrumbs,” Amaro queried, gently taking the phone from Olivia’s shaky hand—the last thing they needed was for her to drop it and it and for the screen to shatter—“why would she delete the texts?”

Olivia shook her head. “Because the information we need is somewhere else too, somewhere more accessible to us and less accessible to whoever is holding her. Check her email, Amaro.”

“Nothing in her inbox,” he declared, dejected.

“Check her drafts,” Olivia advised, looking over Amaro’s shoulder. “There. It’s an address.”

“Do you know where that is, Liv?” Alex asked.

“Never seen it before.” The brunette leapt into action, as if preparing to make any other arrest and rescue. For the moment, staying distant and objective--at least outwardly--was the only thing keeping her calm enough to think straight. “Alex, stay here with the phone and give it to CSU when they arrive. See if they can find out who this perp is.” Olivia reminded herself that in this group, she was the commanding officer. She needed to call all the shots. “I’m texting all of us this address. Let’s go.”

“Liv,” Amaro said, hesitating to follow Liv down the steps, “are you sure you’re up to doing this?”

Olivia knew Amaro was worried about how she’d react if it turned out they were looking at a body recovery, and it wasn’t like it hadn’t occurred to her how hard this could end up being, but the detective loved her girlfriend, and she needed to be there for her, regardless of the condition she was in. “I’m good, Nick. We don’t have time for this conversation.” The brunette raced down the steps of the courthouse, wondering what that condition was, and what was happening to Amanda—if she were still alive. 

Amaro and Fin shared a quick glance before bounding down the stairs after their fellow detective, returning to their police-issued vehicle, which Liv was already behind the wheel of. She barely waited for the back doors to close before slamming on the siren and racing down the street. Amanda must have taken a cab to whatever this location was because of the distance from the courthouse, and the fact that she had taken the time to put the address in her drafts proved that she willingly met someone there. Knowing Amanda though, Olivia knew that didn’t mean she was safe. The blonde detective often made hasty, dangerous decisions, and it seemed like this time it had caught up with her. The woman cleared her head and focused on driving; she knew why she had just experienced the instinct to blame Amanda for what could be happening to her, and it was because she just wanted desperately to reason her way out of accepting the truth. She was ambivalent, vacillating between the worst-case scenario and a harmless, albeit unfortunate, coincidence. But the experienced detective always trusted her own instincts, and she knew—just knew that Amanda was in serious trouble. SVU trouble. 

They arrived at the address Olivia had hastily plugged into her GPS more quickly than she was prepared for, and Fin and Amaro actually exited the car before she did. “Liv,” Fin cautioned, “if you want to stay here, we’ll radio you as soon as we know anything.”

Olivia slammed the car door and grabbed a blanket from the trunk, tossing it to Fin before unholstering her weapon. “Let’s go.”

It looked like an old abandoned building, and as they ventured into its depths, it became cold, which was odd for the summer day they were having in New York.

“Clear!” 

“Clear!”

“Clear!”

Each room they entered was devoid of any sign of life. Olivia was growing desperate. “Amanda!” Both men shushed her, reminding her that if the perp was there, he could hurt her or move her once he knew cops had entered the building. 

Olivia just wanted Amanda to know she wasn’t alone anymore. “Amanda! Amanda, it’s Olivia. And Fin and Nick. We’re here, just please baby, say something.”

The anxiety and desperation in the room were palpable. All three law enforcement officers were quiet for the next several moments as the search for Amanda continued. 

Suddenly, Fin’s voice. “I got her!”  
____________________________________________________

Counting was a good way to pass the time. She had no way of knowing how long she had been on the floor of this building, but she decided that she needed to start keeping track of time in some way. Counting in her head was her best bet. It’s not like she could count aloud even if she wanted to. The paralytic she had been injected with prevented that. 

Five hundred ninety-seven seconds. 

She had been foolish to believe she could stop this. She had never had any power when it came to this man, and this was no different. The moment she’d agreed to delete their text messages and meet him there, she should have known what was going to happen. But he gave her a choice. It was her or it was Olivia. And that was really no choice at all.

Seven hundred forty-two seconds. 

Olivia. Would she ever see her again? Feel her delicate touch or hear her gentle voice? Time was such a frustrating construct. It meant nothing and everything all at the same time. God, she was so cold.

One thousand one hundred thirty-six seconds. 

One thousand eight hundred and two seconds. 

She must be hallucinating now. Shock could do that to a person, she recalled. Or was the voice she was hearing now simply her life flashing before her eyes in the moments preceding her death? The movie of her life would be mostly tragic, with the most disgustingly beautiful images being events that had happened within the past year. Amanda thought about Liv, how clear she made it every single day that the blonde woman was loved. If she were going to die, at least someone would remember her.

Amanda appreciated the fact that her last experience before she left was going to be hearing Olivia’s voice, even if she weren’t really there. 

“Amanda.”

Three thousand two hundred seventy-three seconds.

“Amanda, I love you. Please wake up.”

Wait a minute. If she were fading away, why was Liv’s voice getting closer?

“Her breathing is slow, but it’s there.” Wait. Amaro? Why was she imagining him?

“She’s got to be in shock. Fin, put the blanket on her and call a bus.” That was definitely Olivia’s voice, and it was certainly not anything she’d heard her girlfriend say before. 

Had they come for her? Was she going to live? Amanda had spent the last three thousand two hundred seventy-three seconds coming to terms with her own death, and now…could there be hope?

Amanda could be certain of her fate. 

If only she could open her eyes. 

“Amanda, baby, if you can hear me,” Olivia whispered tearfully—was she crying?—“I’m going to touch you. I just want to check on your pulse. It’s me, it’s Olivia. It’s not going to hurt. Just keep breathing. Help is on the way.”

It was Olivia. She felt two careful fingers come to rest against her carotid artery, and Amanda could feel her own heartbeat thump rapidly for a few seconds before the brunette pulled her hand away.

No, come back, Olivia. Don’t leave.

“She’s definitely in shock,” Olivia reported to her colleagues, taking her first deep breath in many minutes. 

Am I gonna die?

“Liv,” Fin said to her softly, so softly, almost as if he were trying to protect Amanda from his words. “She’s naked…and there’s a lot of blood.” 

Oh, God, why does she have to see this? Get her out of here, Fin. Make her leave! She doesn’t need to see me like this!

She heard Olivia take another shaky breath. “There’s a lot of blood,” she repeated in a near whisper. 

It’s fine, Olivia. I’m fine.

“She must be unconscious, Liv,” Amaro declared, still softly, a weak attempt to comfort his senior detective. “She can’t be suffering.”

No, Nick. I’m awake. Listen to me. Get Olivia away. 

“Her eyelids.” Fin’s voice again. 

What about them?

“I think she’s trying to open her eyes.”

I just want to see Olivia. Tell her I’m okay. I’m not alone anymore.

“’Manda?” The voice sounded alarmed, but the hope lacing Olivia’s voice spurred the blonde on.

Amanda Jo Rollins, goddammit, open your eyes right now. 

Was her strength returning or did Olivia’s love just have that much power? There were weights on her eyelids, but they were being lifted off of her. Why in the hell was a cold, dark, abandoned building so bright? “C’mon, baby, let me see those beautiful blue eyes.” Amanda could tell Olivia was close, but she wasn’t close enough.

I need help, Olivia. Hold my hand. So cold. 

Why wasn’t Olivia touching her? Suddenly, all her willpower shifted from opening her eyes to moving her hand. She heard three gasps and knew her fingers had twitched. The older woman instinctively reached out to interlace their fingers. “I’m here, Amanda. I’m here, sweetheart. You can do this. Open your eyes.”

The look on Olivia’s face as Amanda’s eyelids fluttered open was like nothing she had ever seen before. And the sob that ripped through her entire body was just as intense. The brunette allowed her hand to travel up Amanda’s forearm and back down as she watched the blonde blink several times in a row. “You’re okay, Amanda. You’re going to be okay.”

Sirens.

Now that I’m not dead, I’m gonna have to go to the hospital. 

Amanda knew whatever she had been injected with was starting to wear off, but she was also aware she couldn’t yet talk. She felt a rough fingertip at her neck. Fin. “Liv, look. A needle mark.”

Yes.

“He must have dosed her.” Amanda blinked hard in response. Liv noticed. “Amanda.” Olivia adjusted herself on the hard ground slightly, keeping both hands lightly on her girlfriend’s injured body, hoping to ground her and her give some support. God, Olivia thought, she must feel so helpless. “I’m going to ask you a few yes or no questions. Blink once for yes and twice for no. Do you understand?”

Yes. Blink.

“Good job, sweetheart. Were you injected with something?”

Yes. Blink.

“An anesthetic?” Wishful thinking.

No. Blink. Blink.

Amaro chimed in, making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around Amanda’s body as the sirens approached. “What about a neuromuscular agent?”

Yes. Blink. 

Amanda could swear she had never heard Fin sound so offended. “He paralyzed her.”

Olivia took another shaky breath. God, Amanda wished she knew what Olivia was thinking. 

I just want to hold her hand.

The brunette gasped. “She’s trying to squeeze my hand. It might be wearing off. One more question, baby. You’re doing so good.” The sirens stopped and soon footsteps were heard entering the building. Amaro volunteered to go lead the EMTs to Amanda. “Baby, do you know who did this to you?”

Yes. Yes, I know him. Blink.

“Okay, we’ll talk about that later when you get more strength back. Just hang in there. We’re going to get you to the hospital.”

Wait. Why are you letting go?

Liv, don’t leave me.

No. Blink. Blink.

“Amanda, I’m coming with you. The EMTs just need to take care of you. I’m right here.” 

Amanda strained to watch Olivia out of the corner of her eye as the group of men surrounded her. The blonde told herself to focus on Olivia. She was watching. She wouldn’t let these men hurt her. The older detective had covered her mouth with her hand, and was clearly holding back tears. She tried to keep terrified blue eyes locked with drowning chocolate orbs, but the sound of Amaro’s voice pulled Olivia’s gaze away from her.

Come back.

“Liv, I got a text from Cabot. CSU found deleted texts between Amanda and another number. They haven’t been able to access the texts, but we have a suspect.”

Amanda was granted a better view when two of the EMTs lifted her onto the gurney. She felt a pinch in her left hand as a man with a kind face ever so delicately inserted an IV. That was probably necessary. Thanks Mr. IV Man.

“Go. Make the arrest. We don’t know when Amanda will be able to tell us what happened. Cut him in half for all I care, just get him in custody.”

“Copy that, Detective.”

Amanda watched as the kind-faced EMT stopped Amaro and Fin from walking away. “Before you go, Detectives, we just have a few questions.” The other men began to load Amanda into the ambulance as Amaro and Fin nodded.

“You said she was injected with some type of paralytic. Do you know what it was?”

Olivia stepped up to the gurney and grasped Amanda’s hand once more, giving her a sad smile when their eyes met. Neither woman saw the male detectives answer. 

“What’s her blood type?” 

Olivia sniffed. “Oh. Uh. AB-positive.” Of course Amanda had to have the least convenient blood type possible.

“Thank you, Detectives.” After the two men walked off, Mr. IV Man turned to Olivia. “You riding?”

The brunette simply climbed into the ambulance behind Amanda and the other paramedics. 

Mr. IV Man spoke into a radio. “Be advised, we have a thirty-three-year-old female detective. Traumatic injury in the field. Unsure of how much blood’s been lost, but have at least two units of O-negative ready.” The ambulance roared to life as the sirens began to blare and the paramedic in the driver’s seat gassed hard. “She was drugged by a suspect, substance unknown. Giving fluids wide open, ETA seven minutes.” 

He glanced at Amanda and then Olivia. “Was she sexually assaulted?”

Again with the whispering. If she was capable of rolling her eyes, she would have.  
Olivia’s eyes met hers and her eyebrows rose with an unvoiced question. The detective saw the position she was posed in. She was naked and bleeding. But Olivia stayed quiet, holding on to the tiniest shard of hope the same way she held desperately to Amanda’s hand, and she couldn’t even explain the justification of the pause to herself. Maybe she needed Amanda to say it. One last squeeze to her girlfriend’s hand, a granting of permission. 

Blink.


	2. Arrest Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.   
> The person who attacked Amanda is revealed in this chapter, and I’m going to do my best to explain the situation (next chapter), but if it ends up not making sense, ask me, and I’ll do better next time! As always, I know how important stories about this topic are, and I want to do my best to get it right. If you ever notice an inconsistency or insensitivity, I want to know about it. As my audience, I consider you all my betas. *This is where I would put a heart if I could use emojis on ff/AO3*  
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Arrest Part 2

Hospital ceilings are just too white, too happy for the things that go on here. 

The paramedics rolled Amanda’s gurney into the ER, Olivia racing to keep up with them, trying her best to keep herself in Amanda’s field of vision, which she knew was still relatively narrow thanks to her limited ability to move. 

Mr. IV Man spoke up as soon as he made eye contact with a doctor, the ER’s attending physician. His words were so rushed that Olivia was sure she was missing some of the information he was giving. “Detective Amanda Rollins, thirty-three years old. Held hostage, paralyzed, and attacked by an unknown subject. Traumatic blood loss in the field. Pulse is rapid and thready. BP is seventy-four over fifty-eight. Respiration rate is elevated. Type AB-positive. This is the detective that found her.”

Seeing that her patient was conscious, the ER attending began speaking to her as the crowd of people fully entered the Emergency room, shining a pen light in both of her eyes. “Detective Rollins, I’m Doctor Wilde. We’re going to take care of you.” She paused for a moment, turning to Olivia. “Detective, I need you to stay in the waiting room until we have her stabilized.”

Before the brunette could answer, both women witnessed Amanda begin to forcefully blink over and over again. “She’s saying no,” Olivia quickly explained to the doctor. “Amanda, baby, I’m going to be right here. They’re going to keep you warm and give you some blood, and I’ll be waiting for them to come get me.”

I don’t wanna be alone anymore.

Olivia faintly heard Dr. Wilde whisper to the team of nurses, “Give her just a second. The calmer we can keep her, the better.” 

Olivia reached out to smooth Amanda’s hair, keeping a hand on a bruised cheek for a moment as she watched a single tear escape one of her girlfriend’s eyes. Her skin was clammy and cold, and there was quite a bit of blood beginning to cake in her hair. At least the small laceration the older woman had just noticed on the blonde’s hairline didn’t look like it was still bleeding. How did Olivia not notice this before? Maybe it just wasn’t the injury she was preoccupied with, and she had too much other information to process. Olivia just wanted to know what was going on in Amanda’s mind. She was more than willing to do what she could do to calm Amanda and slow her quick, shallow breathing, but she didn’t know what the blonde needed to hear, and until the paralytic wore off, she couldn’t ask her. “Listen to me,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she wiped away the runaway tear delicately. “No one is going to hurt you, my love. You are safe now. The doctor and the nurses are going to take you now, but,”—she looked up at the team of medical providers--adding pointedly, “they are going to walk you through everything they’re doing. We know that you’re scared, sweetheart, but I need you to be brave for just a little while longer.” Olivia brought Amanda’s icy fingers to her lips, kissing a set of knuckles. “Okay?” 

Olivia waited for one last intentional blink, symbolizing Amanda’s “yes” before letting go of the hand she held and stepping out of the way of the care team as they wheeled her by.

She held Dr. Wilde back for just a moment. “Doctor, we believe she was sexually assaulted.”

Dr. Wilde nodded. “Thank you for telling me, but we have bigger fish to fry than a rape kit. Detective, your criminal trial is not my priority. 

Olivia’s head bobbed in understanding and agreement. “I know, and it isn't mine either. I'm not asking you to get a nurse examiner yet. Just, if you can, please try to preserve some evidence.”

The doctor was an intelligent woman, and it was clear at to her at this point that these two were more than simply colleagues. “We'll do our best, Detective...?” she trailed off.

“Benson. Call me Olivia.”

The physician’s features turned kind, and she placed a comforting hand on Olivia’s arm. “I'll keep you updated, Olivia. Go ahead and have a seat. We'll get you back there as soon as we can. Hang in there.”

The detective watched as Dr. Wilde bounded past the double doors that led to Amanda, before sitting in a waiting room chair, a leg bouncing anxiously. How the hell had this happened? Who had done this? And why? Amanda put on a front at work about being tough (she loved to play bad cop during interrogations) but there was a softness to her that she often saved only for Olivia. And no matter how much the older woman knew about sexual violence and how it worked, the “why?” question permeated her thoughts. 

There were so many things that made this situation awful. Olivia had just enough information to send her into a panic-induced frenzy, only the amount of information that would produce a pool of vomit on the waiting room floor if she thought enough about it, and she knew just enough of the story for her heart to damn near break in two. It wasn’t that the SVU detective believed anyone was deserving of this, but Amanda? No. Absolutely not. 

All she wanted was to go back to a time before this (even earlier that day would have sufficed), to wake up in the morning and feel Amanda in her arms, safe and sound. All Olivia wanted was to love her girlfriend with everything she had, even to prepare her sometimes fragile spirit for what would surely come in the next several months. How long would the recovery take? And then the trial? As an advocate for survivors, she knew how to counsel women through this process, but Amanda wasn’t any other survivor, and Olivia would have to be there through it all—through every nightmare, every flashback. And it’s not that she wasn’t grateful for this—God, how Olivia thanked a higher power she wasn’t sure she believed in that Amanda was even still alive—but this was going to be grueling for Amanda, and by proxy, for her.

Suddenly, Olivia’s phone roared to life. She sniffed before composing herself to answer the call. “Captain Cragen. Look, I know I disobeyed orders, so if you need to take disciplinary action, I get it, but I won’t apol—” 

“Liv, I’m not expecting an apology. You did the right thing, trusting your gut. And I’m sorry for not believing in Rollins the way that you do. I won’t make that mistake again. I’m calling to check in.” 

Olivia tried and failed to conceal the shakiness of her voice and the quiver of her lip as she replied, rubbing at tired eyes with the fingers of her free hand. “It’s…it’s bad, Cap. I mean, she’s conscious and somewhat responsive, but she can’t talk, so we have no way of knowing what happened, and she knows who did it, but she can’t tell us, so this son of a bitch is still out—”

“Benson,” he interrupted her. “We have someone in custody.”

“Who?”

“Olivia, you know I can’t tell you that yet. Fin is on his way with a photo lineup. I don’t want the defense to have any ammunition to say you influenced the ID, so wait until she’s stable and clear-headed.” Cragen sighed. “Also--Liv.”

“What?” She sat up farther in the chair. “Do you know what happened? Did he confess?”

“We can talk more about that after the ID. But this is Amanda’s story to tell, and you should let her tell it. When she’s ready.”

The detective nodded, more so at herself than towards her boss. “I—Cragen, I have to call you back. Amanda’s doctor just walked out.” 

“Dr. Wilde,” she greeted anxiously after hanging up the phone, standing up to get the physician’s attention. The doctor gave her a small smile as she approached, gesturing for her to sit down. “Is Amanda—”

“She’s stable,” the doctor confirmed, watching Olivia sigh in relief. “Does Amanda have next of kin or someone I can call for her?”

Olivia shook her head. “I’m kind of her only family. I know we’re not married, but--”

Dr. Wilde put up her hand to stop the rambling detective. “No worries, Olivia. You don’t need to justify your relationship to me. I just wanted to check.” She waited for the detective to bob her head in acknowledgment before continuing. “I want to share with you a little about what’s going on and what we did for Amanda. Do you think you’re ready to hear some of that?” Olivia nodded. For now, Dr. Wilde may be able to tell her more about what had happened than Amanda could. “She was injected with a neuromuscular blocking drug called pancuronium bromide.”

“Isn’t that sometimes used in executions?” What kind of side effects would this drug have on Amanda’s body?

The doctor nodded. “You may want to look into law enforcement officers or trained health care professionals for this attack. Someone connected to either of those institutions may have been able to get their hands on the drug. What we know about drugs like these is that they relax muscles to the point of no voluntary use. The dose she was given was high enough to completely incapacitate her, but it wasn’t so high that that it majorly impacted her breathing or so high that I expect there will be incredibly long-term effects. Based on the amount of function she’s regained until now, I would say she was injected a little over two hours before she was admitted. We started a reversal drug, and that should speed up the process some.”

Olivia wanted to be relieved, but she knew that this drug had rendered her girlfriend completely powerless, and she was also acutely aware--because of how controversial pancuronium was when it was used in executions--that it had no anesthetic effects. For those two hours, Amanda was completely conscious. “How much longer until she can talk and move normally?”

“That’s hard to say, Detective.” Dr. Wilde thought for a moment, wanting to comfort her patient’s loved one while still providing her with accurate information. “I don’t expect it too take too much longer for her to be at near full function, maybe an hour or so, but she’ll likely be weak for longer than that.” Dr. Wilde paused for a moment to allow Olivia to process. “What other questions do you have for me so far?”

The brunette wracked her brain. Of course there was more she wanted to know, but what could the doctor tell her? “She was clearly in shock. Have her symptoms improved?”

“I’m guessing in your line of work, you have some experience with hypovolemic shock?” the doctor asked gently.

Olivia nodded. “Neither of us are strangers to blood, but it really looked like a lot.”

“I can’t imagine how scary seeing that type of blood loss would have been, Olivia, but I have some good news for you. All of the bleeding has stopped. We have given one unit of O-negative blood, along with supportive care like warm IV fluids, and her blood pressure has stabilized, so I think we are just going to continue the fluids. Her heartrate is still slightly elevated, but that’s common with pancuronium, so we’ll continue to monitor her as it wears off and make sure her pulse gets and stays below one hundred. We’ll also draw some labs in a few hours to check on kidney function. We cleaned and stitched the laceration on her forehead, but once we were sure the bleeding had stopped, we decided not to do too much with any vaginal trauma, especially while she’s still weak. Everything is bandaged lightly, that way it’s easy to remove the dressing for documentation and examination. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes, thank you.” Olivia covered her face with both hands for a moment, willing herself to find the strength to remain present and find out as much as she could about what had happened. “Why was she bleeding so much?”

Olivia appreciated the frankness of the doctor’s words, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t speak softly, but as the woman spoke, the detective was reminded over and over again of the reality of the situation. She wasn’t checking on a vic. This was Amanda. “The increase in heartrate that the pancuronium causes initially induces a spike in blood pressure as well, which can lead to excessive bleeding with the abrasions common in sexual assault, and we also know that head injuries bleed more. This kind of blood loss is not inconsistent with the injuries she sustained, and again, she’s stable now and is no longer bleeding.”

“Is she in pain?”

“We offered some pain management, but she indicated there was some family history of addiction, and we can’t give anything OTC orally until we know she can swallow safely. She is also thirsty, which is common in shock patients, but in addition to our concerns about swallowing, we didn’t know what your plans are as far as evidence collection. There is water in her room, so when you all are ready to let her drink, make sure she starts slow.”

“So, she is in pain.”

The doctor placed a hand on Olivia’s shoulder, offering her a sad smile. “She seems to be coping fairly well.”

“Can I…can I see her?”

Dr. Wilde nodded, her smile growing wider. “She’s asking for you.”

Olivia was led past the double doors and into a curtained off area of the Emergency Room. “We’ll move her up onto the trauma floor for the night in just a few hours,” the doctor explained.

Dr. Wilde pulled the curtain to the side, gesturing for Olivia to enter the area. “Thank you, Doctor,” the detective muttered before locking eyes with Amanda, deciding to approach her. 

Amanda was hooked up to an IV and some supplemental oxygen through a nasal canula, there was still some blood in her hair, and her face just looked tired, but overall, she looked a lot better than she had when Olivia had last seen her, clothed loosely in a hospital gown. Immediately, the blonde weakly lifted a hand up, beckoning her girlfriend over. “O…livia.”

The older woman couldn’t stop the flow of tears that begun running down her face as she rushed to Amanda’s side. “Look at you, moving and talking. I’m so proud of you!”

Amanda grunted. “It’s…hard.”

“I bet,” Olivia empathized. “The doctor said it should get easier soon.” The blonde tried to reach again for Olivia’s hand, and when she noticed what Amanda was feebly attempting to do, the long-time SVU detective grasped onto it, holding it tightly in both of her hands. “Can I ask?” she began, watching Amanda grimace as she tried to shift towards her girlfriend in the hospital bed. “Would you be willing to take some pain meds?”

The blonde knew how hard it must have been for Olivia to see her this clearly uncomfortable. To the team of nurses, she had rated her pain level at a five, deciding not to give it the thought required to be more accurate. Amanda was doing a relatively good job of still focusing on the cold, though it wasn’t as all-consuming as it had been before, and at least she had Olivia’s touch to focus on now—she could notice the way in which each of their hands moved against each other, she could appreciate the unique grooves in her girlfriend’s fingertips, and though she was definitely still hurting, the blonde needed to focus on the positive for a little while. “It’s a decision…” she began to explain, “that I…needed to make…for me. When they clear me…for Tylenol…I will take it.”

Liv offered her girlfriend a sad smile. She didn’t like Amanda’s answer, but she had to respect it. It had never been more important for the blonde’s wishes to be honored, and Olivia was willing to lose this battle in order to win the war of her girlfriend’s overall recovery.

Amanda looked up at the older woman, her own eyes watering for the first time in several hours. Good to know she’d gotten the crying function back. That was definitely going to come in handy. “Thank, you, Liv…for bein’ here.” This had already been the longest day of the younger woman’s life, and she knew it was really only starting. Now that she was stable, it was time to start discussing what needed to happen next as far as the prosecution of Amanda’s rapist. She wouldn’t truly get to rest for many days.

Olivia nodded, reaching out to wipe a few tears off of Amanda’s still pale cheeks. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” She saw a small flinch in response to the action, barely noticeable, but clear to anyone who understood Amanda that it was a microexpression of fear. The brunette saw her hand instinctively pull away from her girlfriend’s skin. She wasn’t quite sure how to move forward here. Amanda was clearly reaching out to her and wanted her to be close, but was she not wanting to be touched? At what point were Olivia’s gestures of comfort becoming counterproductive? Was Amanda not voicing this information simply because it was physically difficult to speak, or was she worried about making Olivia feel bad so early on in this process? “Baby, I’m noticing you flinching away from my touch. Now, that’s okay, but I just want to check in. Are you wanting some space?”

Amanda grasped tightly to Olivia’s hand with more strength than she had used up to that point. “No. Please…don’t go. I’m sorry.” She didn’t mean to flinch away from Olivia. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t control it. Her body was still very much on edge, and now that she possessed the physical capability of flinching away from touch, she seemed to be involuntarily compensating for the hours that came before. She wished she could explain this to her girlfriend, her amazing girlfriend, who was already—no surprise!—being gentler with her than she probably deserved. “It’s just…a lot.”

Olivia pulled up a chair so she could sit down next to Amanda, taking a deep breath. She kept one hand wrapped around Amanda’s left because she could tell that the blonde was trying to hold on. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through right now, sweetheart, but I want to do what I can to help. Do you think you can try explaining to me what that is?”

The blonde nodded with some effort, trying to sit up but eventually giving up with a slight wince. “I…”

Olivia bobbed her head up and down in encouragement. “Take it one word at a time,” she coaxed. Amanda was generally a rather articulate person, and she expressed herself through speech successfully ninety-nine percent of the time. It went without saying that this had her slightly off kilter, having to choose words not because of what made the most sense, but based on what would be easier to say.

“…need,” Amanda continued, “you to be…you. Touch me…if it feels natural. I’ll say somethin’…if I don’t…want it.” Olivia nodded in understanding, reaching out to ever so delicately brush a piece of Amanda’s hair behind her ear, and the brunette watched as her girlfriend softly closed her eyes, savoring the touch. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I need…the reminder…that I’m with you…and not with…you know?” It occurred to Amanda for the first time that Olivia probably didn’t know who her attacker was, and the fact that she hadn’t even asked about it yet was something that Amanda didn’t really know how to feel about. The younger woman wanted to believe that Olivia’s intention in not asking was to give her the space and time she needed to make a formal disclosure, but she still worried about what her reaction would end up being. 

The conflict in her mind caused her breathing to speed up, as evidenced by the vitals monitor at her bedside. “Liv,” Amanda coughed after a moment, “…water.”

Olivia glanced at the pitcher of water on the table next to Amanda’s bed. Next to it was a small plastic cup with a straw in it. The detective didn’t know what to say. “Baby, I don’t know if—”

Amanda knew what Olivia’s concerns were. She had already discussed—or tried to discuss—them with Dr Wilde. The blonde started by exaggerating a swallow, ensuring Liv noticed that it was something she could do. Then, she placed a hand on the brunette’s arm, her voice becoming very serious, even though in her anxious state, breathing was becoming more labor intensive. “Won’t…wash away…anything. Please.”

Liv’s head bobbed up and down. At least she had one thing to be relieved about, she thought as she reached for the water and poured a small amount into a cup. “Okay, love.” She guided Amanda’s hand to grasp the cup before bringing the straw to her lips. “Start with small sips.”

After Amanda drank a little, she pulled the cup away from her mouth and Olivia went to take it from her. “I can hold it,” she insisted. “The good news...shock causes urinary...retention, so I won't...have to pee for a while. Which is great cause...I don't want a catheter.” 

Olivia smiled softly. The lubrication of Amanda’s throat that the small drink of water had provided seemed to have made it easier for her to speak her mind. “We'll take everything as it comes, love,” she promised, running a hand up and down Amanda’s forearm, relieved when the blonde hummed at the touch, “one step at a time. I'm here to support you through every decision, but I want you to know that they're your decisions to make."

Amanda thought for a moment. “You're not...just talking about...medical care right now, are you?” She slowly sipped some more water, waiting for the brunette to respond.

Shifting in her seat, Olivia began to speak slowly, aware of how important it was for Amanda to know she was in the driver’s seat here. “Baby, I'm not here to ask for a statement or push for a kit. I'm here for you. But I do want you to know that Fin is on his way, and it's something we need to address. If you're not ready to move forward with this, then just let me know. There’s no pressure.”

Amanda shook her head. “No, I want to. I want my day in court.” It was the most coherent sentence she had put together so far, and it wasn’t accidental. The blonde, though grateful for Olivia’s patience and willingness to let her take the reins, wanted her girlfriend to know that she fully intended to press charges. This man had held power over her for far too long, and now that Amanda had the support of   
Olivia, Alex, and the rest of the squad, there would never be a better time for her to take her power back.

Olivia went to respond, but a knock on the wall beside the curtain divider separating Amanda from other patients stopped her. It was Fin. He entered the area carrying a tablet.

Amanda decided to waste no time, managing a successful attempt of sitting up farther. “Did you find him?”

Fin nodded, stepping towards Olivia and Amanda. “We have someone in custody.”

Overwhelmed at the idea of having to make an ID, Amanda’s overall orientation became more shaky, and she suddenly decided to try her best to exit the hospital bed, attempting to reach for her IV line. If she needed to face her attacker behind a one-way mirror, then that’s what she was going to do. 

Both of the other detectives in the room reached to stop her, but it was Fin who spoke first. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, speedy, you're not goin’ anywhere.”

Olivia tried a slightly gentler approach, knowing that her girlfriend had begun to spin. “Love, you need to rest. We need you to stay here.” 

Fin knew what Amanda was trying to accomplish, so he assured her, “I have a photo array.”

“Of course.” There was no way this hospital would or should discharge her at this point. Was it beginning to get hot in the hospital room? “I'm sorry, guys,” Amanda heaved, getting resituated in the bed with Olivia’s support. “I’m still kinda out of it.” 

Olivia, having stood up to prevent Amanda from pulling out her IV, sat back down in order to return to Amanda’s eye level. “Do you want to do this later?”

“No, I'm good,” Amanda decided. “It’s just all the drugs. Another reason I said no to morphine.”

As Fin went to hand the tablet to Amanda, the monitor keeping tabs on her vitals began to sound an alarm. Olivia looked up to see that her pulse was nearing one hundred forty, so she blocked the transfer of the lineup of photos, knowing Amanda’s medical stability came first. “Sweetheart, we need to keep your heart rate down. If you’re not ready--”

“Well, this is not gonna be fun for me, Olivia!” Amanda threw her hands up into the air, the dramatic gesture putting strain on all the areas of her body that already hurt. Though the tone in her voice stung,   
Liv was more concerned with her girlfriend’s rising blood pressure and heart rate. The brunette watched as her eyes slammed shut and she attempted to take a few deep breaths, the curtain of the “room” Amanda was in sliding open to reveal a nurse. When she noticed the presence of this young woman, Amanda nodded in acknowledgement. “I’m fine. I’m just upset.”

The nurse was understanding. “We need you to try and stay calm.”

Amanda remained silent, taking intentionally slow breaths until the machine by her bedside shut the fuck up, before looking back to the nurse. “I’m calm.” 

Fin addressed the nurse, holding up his badge. The last thing Amanda wanted was to be badgered by a well-intentioned but aggravating nurse. Her presence wasn’t going to stabilize Amanda’s vitals. “Can we just have a few minutes? We’ll give you a shout if she needs something.” 

After she left, Fin turned back to Amanda. “It’s your choice, Rollins. You wanna do this now?”

The youngest detective nodded, reaching for the tablet once more. “You know the drill,” Fin advised, “swipe right to left, take your time.”

"In no time at all, Amanda had paused at the photo she recognized. Neither Fin nor Olivia had ever seen him before. She looked up, handing Fin his tablet back. “His name is Charles Patton. He was my Deputy Chief in Atlanta.”

Olivia was at a loss for words, but Fin decided to fill the silence. “Can you tell us anything else?”

“I’m sorry, Fin. I’m sorry, Liv, I’m just…so tired, and my mouth is dry…again.”

Olivia reached out a hand to smooth over Amanda’s hair, still trying to grapple with the knowledge that Amanda’s rapist was her old superior officer. It would be like if Captain Cragen---now was not the time for these speculations, Olivia reminded herself. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You made the ID. Let’s rest for now. ‘Manda, can I ask you a question?” 

Amanda nodded, assuming she knew where Liv was going. “Yeah, I'll sign the consent for the rape kit.” 

“Good to know,” Benson acknowledged, “but baby, we’re not quite there yet. I want you to be a little more lucid first. You can say no, but how would you feel about me going down to the station for a bit? Only for a little while to update Alex and the others, and Fin will keep you company.”

The younger woman’s eyes widened, and she was surprised when the monitor didn’t start beeping again. “Will you come back? Like in an hour or so?” She wanted Olivia to stay, of course, but she also knew that the brunette deserved space. Amanda also felt like she may be ready to give a statement to Fin before she felt comfortable sharing with Olivia. She probably would hold off, though, because Amanda would be telling her story for the next fifteen years, and if she could get away with telling it one less time, that would be worth the awkward silence that would surely develop between her and Fin, despite the bond between them that had developed quickly. Everyone around Amanda just wanted to make her feel better, and it made sense that it was hard for them that they couldn’t, but the blonde also knew it wasn’t her responsibility to fix that.

Olivia’s head bobbed, and she brought her forehead to rest against Amanda’s, being careful to avoid the cut and watching for any sign that she wanted her to back off, but she found none, the blonde smiling softly at the contact. She knew the next several months would leave her feeling touch-starved, and she felt the need to bask in every moment of contact. “Absolutely,” Liv promised. “Give me one hour, and I'll be back by your side. Maybe then you'll be more comfortable talking.”

Amanda reached around to hold Olivia’s face against hers. “Liv, you can have more than an hour if you eat a sandwich or something. You have to take care of yourself.”

Olivia sighed. Leave it to Amanda to be exclusively concerned with Liv’s comfort in this situation. She was sort of hungry, she thought, but she was hungrier for justice. “We’ll see,” she concluded her thoughts. “If I’m going to be longer than an hour, I’ll check in.”

“Okay,” Amanda sighed.

Olivia let the fingers of her right hand massage Amanda’s scalp for a moment as Fin stepped to the side in order to afford the couple some privacy. “I love you,” the brunette woman whispered to Amanda. “And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

Amanda nodded, trying her best to believe her girlfriend’s words. “I love you too.” After a few more seconds, Olivia released her gentle hold on Rollins, thanking Fin for his help before slowly exiting the area.

Fin sat down in chair next to Amanda as she tried to stretch, reaching for her water. His tone was matter of fact. “You know she just went to kill Patton.”

“Nah,” she drawled, taking a sip of water and lying her head back against a pillow, “somebody'll stop 'er.”

When the older detective arrived at the precinct, she caught sight of Alex standing outside an interrogation room.

Olivia strutted into the viewing area outside of the interrogation room where Patton was being held, speaking to Alex in a quick stream of words, as if she weren’t concerned at all for her reply, before attempting to open the door to the room. “Has he invoked? No? Great. I'm going to question him.”

Alex, who had been lost in her own thoughts, sprung to life. “Olivia, you can't go in there. You know better.” 

Olivia was fuming, the drive to the station only making her angrier. “Just give me 10 seconds with him.”

Alex frowned. “Now I know you're kidding, Detective.” 

The brunette took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, before gesturing with muted anger towards the one-way window. “She IDed him!”

The attorney, though madder than her own words could describe, tried in vain to not add fuel to the fire while focusing on the positive. “So we can arraign.”

The detective sighed, covering her face with both of her hands. “I don’t know, Alex.”

Alex squinted her eyes in confusion. “What? Why?”

Olivia began to pace back and forth in the viewing area, her voice rising in fiery rage as she spoke. “Her only disclosure was in the form of a blink—you remember that, right? Because that thing paralyzed her and raped her, and she's just now regaining the ability to move and speak. Remember that, Alex? They’re pumping God knows what drug into her, and some of the blood coursing through her veins doesn’t even belong to her! I don't even know if she is capable of consenting to the kit.”

Though her fists clenched in response to her friend’s words, Alex willed herself to focus and remain objective. “Liv, we don't have a lot of time here.”

Olivia scoffed, leaning against the one-way mirror. “Alex, she's not just another case! That's my future wife! I won't force her into an invasive forensic exam before she's entirely lucid.”

The ADA nodded, knowing this was the ethical decision. “Well, it's getting late, so I'm happy to keep him in jail until Monday. But I'm going to need a statement by then. They keeping Amanda overnight?” In response to a quick nod on Olivia’s part, she answered, “Alright, I'll stop by later or tomorrow if that’s okay.”

Benson nodded. Alex was a good friend, and her way of showing that was by prosecuting Patton the best of her ability. Cabot stepped towards Olivia to ensure she processed the permission she was about to give. “You all can go ahead and get him processed.”

Knowing she’d be stopped, Olivia still strode towards the door of the interrogation room. “My pleasure.”

Alex grabbed Liv’s arm, firmly enough to get her point across, but still careful enough not to hurt her. “Whoa, Olivia, c'mon. Let’s get Amaro and a uni. I know you're angry. Believe me, I’m angry too. But I'd much rather pummel him in court, yes?”

The counselor made sure to establish eye contact with Olivia, wanting them to be on the same page.

“It'll last longer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, I’m sure some of you are confused. I will say that in the universe of this story, Patton did not rape Amanda in Atlanta. That’s all I’ll give away for now in the interest of clarity, but the next chapter will have the whole story. Would love to hear your thoughts and questions! Thanks for reading!  
> Gabby


	3. Arraignment Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.   
> I think this chapter provides important information for you all, about the context of this story and educational information as a whole, so let me know if you have any questions! Also, there is a detailed depiction of sexual assault evidence collection as well as Amanda’s statement in this chapter, so if you are sensitive to these topics and you would rather just get a summary of this chapter, let me know. Thanks again!   
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Arraignment Part 1

A little over an hour later, Amanda was talking with near complete normalcy. As both the pancuronium and its reversal left her system, her head was becoming clearer, and though she was still weak, all of her vitals had completely stabilized, including her kidney function. Medically, she seemed to be out of the woods, but Dr. Wilde still wanted to keep her hospitalized overnight for observation. They had decided to transfer her up to the trauma recovery unit after everything that needed to be done in the Emergency Room had been completed.

At some point, Dr. Wilde entered the area Amanda was in to check on her. “Hi, Amanda. Hi, Olivia. How are things in here?”

Liv brought their intertwined hands to her lips, kissing the still cool skin of Amanda’s knuckles, as she waited for her girlfriend to reply. “I’m okay,” the younger woman answered her doctor. “Still pretty uncomfortable, but I know that’s to be expected. I’m definitely tired, and I think the lidocaine from my stiches is wearing off.”

Olivia’s hand went to gingerly brush some hair away from the bandaged wound as Dr. Wilde approached the women. “Are you okay with me checking to make sure you’re experiencing post-surgical discomfort and not anything more serious?”

Amanda nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Like I said, I’m pretty sure it’s just not numb anymore.”

Dr. Wilde quickly pulled a glove onto her right hand. “You’ll feel some pressure around the cut, but this shouldn’t be too uncomfortable.” Amanda sat up some to meet her physician’s hand, grimacing slightly when it made contact with her sensitive skin, gently pulling away the gauze. “So, do you feel me pressing here?”

Amanda nodded once again before Dr. Wilde pulled off her glove. “It’s still sutured well, so nothing’s been pulled out, and it still looks really clean. You’re probably right about the lidocaine. I can get you some numbing ointment if you’d like.” The doctor knew Amanda wasn’t keen on taking pain medication, but she was hoping something like this wouldn’t be a problem, and she nodded with a small smile when her patient accepted the ointment.

“Great,” she said, throwing her glove in the trash. “I heard you’re going forward with evidence collection.”

Amanda’s head bobbed up and down slowly, not knowing what to say. Clearly, Dr. Wilde had to be impartial about this, but she wondered what she was really thinking. “Do you think it’s a good idea?” was what eventually escaped her. It was a weird question, and she saw Olivia frown softly out of the corner of her eye. Of course the detective knew it was a good idea, and she had advised vics to get the kit done hundreds of times, so why was she hesitating when it came to herself?

Dr. Wilde pulled up a stool, sitting down and leaning forward. “I want to remind you that if you’re having doubts, you absolutely don’t have to do it.”

Amanda felt Olivia’s hand come to rest at the top of her head, and the blonde turned towards her girlfriend. “Yeah, sweetheart, I don’t want you to feel pressured to do the kit, and even if you just need a little more time, we all understand. No one is going to make you do this.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to….” Amanda trailed off as both of the women in the room with her waited expectantly. There was so much compassion on Dr. Wilde’s face that she didn’t even know how to process it. And Olivia….The expression in the brunette’s eyes was just beyond description. As cloudy blue pools met Olivia’s feeling chocolate orbs, Amanda was overcome with emotion by the love she saw on her girlfriend’s face. She had gone from being absolutely sure that today was the day she was going to die to being safe in the hands of a caring doctor and nurses, as well as in the warm embrace of Olivia’s gentleness. She had lost so much, and she wasn’t ready to lose the chance at a life with Olivia. 

“I just…” How to word it? “Is it even safe to put a speculum inside me right now? Will I bleed out? That stretching…I mean—God, I have no idea how bad my injuries are, and I’ve always had difficulty with pap smears. I just have a hard time relaxin’.” 

Dr. Wilde hummed, thinking for a moment. “If you want a GYN consult, I can page Dr. Jones. She’s your doctor, yes?”

Amanda shook her head, not wanting to cause a fuss. “I’m probably makin’ it into a bigger deal than it is, right? I mean, I only bled as much as I did because of the pancuronium. It doesn’t mean that there are holes in me.”

“You’re right that it doesn’t necessarily mean that you have severe injuries at this point, but your concerns are valid, Amanda.”

Olivia nodded in agreement, letting her hand come down from Amanda’s head to rest on her shoulder. “Baby, what I’m hearing is that this hesitation has mostly to do with fear for your physical safety. Is that right?”

Amanda nodded. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I’m just worried about bleeding. I don’t mean to be difficult.”

The long-time detective, practically forgetting that the doctor was also in the room, intended to immediately assuage Amanda’s fear of being a burden. “You’re not being difficult, Amanda,” she assured her. “It’s your body, my love, and it’s been through a lot today. None of us take that lightly. You have the right to be your own advocate.” She tucked a still damp strand of hair behind Amanda’s ear, and the blonde nodded, still feeling weird about this.

Dr. Wilde chose this moment to interject into the exchange. “It sounds like you want to go forward with the exam, but you’re worried about the fragility of any injuries you may have. Does that sound right, Amanda?”

“Yes. I’m not worried about pain. I’m not worried about anxiety. Clearly, I can survive both those things. I may just be paranoid, but….”

“So, Amanda,” the doctor began, leaning forward as Olivia once again claimed the blonde’s hand in hers, “we all want you to feel safe, whether or not we do the rape kit. So, what I need to ask you is—how can I best help you feel safe?”

“Can you assure me that this not a dangerous thing to do—medically?”

The physician hummed, scooting the stool closer to the foot of Amanda’s bed. “Do you mind if I take a look?” 

Did she mind? Mind?! Of course she did! In fact, Amanda wanted no one to look at her ever again. She didn’t want to know what the damage was, and she certainly didn’t want Olivia to see. Her immediate response was to move to insist that the doctor get the hell away from her and her wounded form, but she stopped herself in the nick of time, remembering to breathe slowly in order to trick her vitals monitor—and by extension, Dr. Wilde and Olivia—into believing that she was cool as a cucumber.

Dr. Wilde was giving her a choice here. 

Choice, a word that Amanda was becoming less familiar with by the second. 

Amanda chose to respond to Patton’s text messages and then delete them.

Amanda chose Olivia’s safety over her own.

She chose to meet her former superior officer—who Amanda knew to be violent—in an abandoned building by herself.

She chose to count the seconds and to focus on the cold.

Amanda chose survival.

She chose to do the rape kit.

And Amanda chose what had happened in Atlanta. 

Didn’t she?

Didn’t she?

The only difference between having no choice at all and having the illusion of choice is that you are expected to be grateful for the latter. 

“Yeah, okay,” Amanda eventually squeaked. She could barely hear her own words as her ears rang and her head spun. Once again disoriented and unsure of her choice, she struggled to sit up and move to where Dr. Wilde would have access to her body.

Olivia, realizing what her girlfriend was trying to accomplish, immediately placed a hand on her back for support, cautioning her. “Easy, sweetheart. There’s no rush here. Take your time.”

Amanda huffed, laying her head back against the pillow. “I’m too weak,” she gave up, breathless and frustrated.

“Hey, you have people here to help you,” Olivia reminded her, reaching for the remote that would control the incline of the bed. “Just breathe. Take a minute, and we’ll make a plan, sweetheart.” After the blonde had calmed some, the older woman handed her the remote. “When you’re ready, let’s see how far we can get you to sit up, and then I can help you scoot towards the edge of the bed.”

Dr. Wilde nodded in agreement. “I’m not going to have you put your feet in stirrups for this, Amanda. I want to keep you as comfortable as possible. I’m just going to look.”

The blonde’s head bobbed against the rising bed as she pressed the button on the remote Olivia had gingerly handed her. “The sitting up part is the hardest. I might be able to scoot a little on my own.”

One second at a time. 

Amanda needed to take it one second at a time.

It was the anticipation of minutes, hours, days, and years that made anything worth doing seem impossible. When being stared in the face by a mountain as seemingly insurmountable as this, the only way forward is second by second. Don’t think about the rape kit. Don’t think about returning to your lonely apartment. Don’t think about the possibility of your struggle being too much for even Olivia Benson to take. Don’t think about testifying. Don’t think about the fact that ninety-nine point five percent of rapists walk free. Don’t think about the verdict. Don’t think about the next fifty to sixty years. Don’t think about surviving. Just think about scooting forward, one inch, one second at a time. 

“Amanda, you can stop there,” she heard Dr. Wilde gently tell her, rescuing her from her thoughts. “I’m going to grab a drape really quickly,” the doctor said mostly to herself, rummaging through a cabinet to her right for some supplies. 

“Um,” Amanda began to confess in a barely-there whisper, “I’m really havin’ a hard time holdin’ myself up right now.” The labored statement was accompanied by the younger detective’s frantic hands feebly trying to find purchase in the fitted sheet on top of the cot she was half sitting/half lying on. 

“I’m here,” Olivia quickly soothed, placing a steadying hand once more on her girlfriend’s back, before deciding to sit on the edge of the bed in order to offer more stability for Amanda to lean against. 

“Baby, lean your back against me. There you go,” she cooed softly as she felt the blonde begin to relax.

Feeling the strain in her core begin to abate some, Amanda turned her attention back to the doctor. “Do you want my feet up on the bed?” she asked meekly, remembering every movie and TV show she had ever seen where someone had delivered a baby. This was a new beginning as well, she told herself, just not a happy one.

The physician nodded, passing the drape off to Olivia who was in a better position to hand it to Amanda, before putting on gloves. “If you can manage that position without being terribly uncomfortable, it would help a lot. And,” she added, “the farther apart you can get your feet and the more relaxed your legs are, the easier this will be.”

Amanda nodded dutifully, leaning her head all the way back into Olivia’s chest. “Liv, is this okay?” she asked quietly.

The brunette let her hands move softly up and down her girlfriend’s arms. “Absolutely,” she promised. 

“I’m going to pull off this dressing first,” Dr. Wilde explained. “I’m going to be gentle, but let me know if you need me to slow down.”

Amanda gave her doctor a quick nod before turning her attention to Olivia, trying to distract herself from the unwanted sensation. “Will you hold me?” she asked sheepishly.

Liv felt as if her heart was about to break into a million pieces. Her girlfriend must have been feeling so painfully vulnerable, and yet she trusted her enough to ask for comfort. “Are you sure, love? I don’t want you to feel like you’re being restrained.”

Amanda nodded with a small wince. “Please.”

“You still doing okay, Amanda?” the doctor checked, scooting her stool all the way forward, waiting for a nod before continuing. “So, I’m going to have my hands on your inner thighs. You may feel some gentle pulling, but I’m just trying to examine you with my eyes, alright? If you feel intense pain, let me know.”  
Amanda focused on the feeling of Olivia’s delicate hands rubbing her arms, coaxing away the goose bumps and holding her close, and her soft voice reminding her that she was safe. “How bad is it, Doc?”

“I see some small lacerations. It’s possible you could bleed some, and it would probably be pretty uncomfortable.” Dr. Wilde looked up at Amanda. “What I’m able to tell you is that based on what I can see with the naked eye, I doubt it would be dangerous. I’m sure the SANE could get some swabs without the speculum, but I imagine you may want pictures with a colposcope. Ultimately, Amanda, it’s up to you.”

Amanda looked up at Olivia, who she discovered was waiting for the blonde to answer. Liv scooted out from behind her girlfriend slowly, helping her recline against the bed in as comfortable of a position as possible “What do you think, love?”

The blonde detective could count on a single hand the things she would want to do less than this exam. Letting Patton go free was one of them. “Can we just get as many samples as we can and see how it goes?”

“Yes, of course,” Dr. Wilde assured, pulling off her gloves. “And we can stop at any point. You have the control here. Our nurse, Vanessa, is amazing. Have you met her before?”

Olivia nodded. Her and the SANE went back a few years. “Yeah, last week actually,” Amanda added. 

It felt like only seconds later when Dr. Wilde left and Vanessa entered the room, rolling in two white boxes on a tray of swabs and other equipment. 

Vanessa was a young woman, perhaps only in her mid-twenties, but her glasses and tired features aged her. She reached out a hand to shake Amanda’s, her freckles illuminated by the harsh lighting of the hospital. “Amanda, it’s good to see you again, though I wish it were under more fortunate circumstances.” She turned to shake Olivia’s hand. “And Olivia, always a pleasure to see you.” The brunette nodded, offering a small smile.

“Ladies, I’m going to try to make this process as quick and as painless as possible. Before we start, Amanda, I do want to ask—have you decided to go forward with criminal charges? The kit can be helpful even if not, but I like to know where people are in that process before we begin.”

“Yes, an arrest has been made, and as far as I know, arraignment is on”—she turned to Olivia—"Monday, you said?”

“Mhm. Yes, love.”

“Yeah, Monday.”

“Alright, great.” Vanessa pulled a handful of papers out of the boxes she carried, shuffling them a little as she sat down on the stool by Amanda’s bed. “So, usually, the first thing I do with my patients is go through the boxes and explain what goes in each envelope, as part of the informed consent process, but I’m going to go ahead and assume you both know what is generally collected during this exam. Would I be correct in assuming that?”

“Yes, we do,” Amanda confirmed, trying her hardest to be friendly, “so you don’t have to do that. I appreciate you being thorough though.”

“Of course.” Vanessa nodded with a kind smile, scooting herself and the stool she was sitting on to be opposite Liv, on the other side of Amanda’s bed. “I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but I do want to reiterate that this process is completely voluntary, and you can choose to stop or take a break at any point. If there’s any evidence you don’t want collected, you can tell me now or at any time during the exam, and we’ll just skip over that envelope. What questions or concerns do you have so far?”

Amanda shook her head. She wanted to get this over with. “I’m good.”

The nurse turned to Olivia. “What about you, Olivia? Anything so far?”

“My biggest worry,” she began slowly, helping Amanda access her cup of water, “has to do with my girlfriend’s comfort. I’m well aware that this isn’t a pleasant process, and trust me, I know how important it is to do anyway, but—I’m sure you’ve read her chart?” Vanessa nodded, keeping her eyes locked with the older detective as she spoke. “Because her attacker drugged her, she—understandably—is wanting to stay as sober and as lucid as possible. That is her right, and I will honor it in any way I can, but she’s already in a considerable amount of pain.” Olivia brought the hand that wasn’t wrapped around one of Amanda’s to rest on her upper back, and the tightness of the muscles below her fingers was evident. 

As their eyes met, Olivia interrupted her own train of thought, furrowing her brow. “Are you okay with me asking about this, ‘Manda?”

The younger woman nodded. “Yeah, baby. This affects you too.” She shifted her attention to Vanessa. “I think what Liv—and I—are trying to ask is…well, is there anythin’ we can do so we’re not severely irritating my already sore body? I was also talkin’ to Dr. Wilde about this because I’m worried about bleedin’.”

Vanessa nodded. “She was telling me about your concerns, and I appreciate you both bringing them up again. This is not something to gloss over, so I’m glad we have the opportunity to discuss this. So, a few things we can do—I can get most of my samples without a speculum, and if you want to stop there, again, it’s totally your choice. Another thing is, if you choose to do the colposcopy and the cervical swab, I have a really small speculum, probably smaller than your gynecologist has used for a pap. We can employ breathing exercises, and we can go as fast or as slow as makes you most comfortable. And the last thing—I know you are not a fan of the idea of being given medication, but I’ll still offer—with Dr. Wilde’s blessing, we can administer a low dose of something to help you relax. Again, all of this is completely up to you, and I know I gave you a lot of information just now, so I want to invite you to take a few minutes to think about it all and maybe discuss it a little, and I’m going to step out and make sure I have everything I need, okay?”

“Okay, thank you, Vanessa.”

“Yes,” Olivia nodded. “Thank you.”

After Vanessa left the area, Olivia scooted her chair even closer to the side of Amanda’s bed, wrapping both hands around her girlfriend’s shaky right hand. “That’s a lot to think about,” the brunette calmly acknowledged. “What can I do to help?”

Amanda reached up to rub at her tired eyes with her left hand, feeling the light pull of her IV catheter as she moved it. The blonde squeezed one of the hands that was holding onto hers. “I can’t even imagine how hard watching me go through this is,” she lamented. “I’m so sorry, Olivia.”

“Don’t—don’t apologize to me, ‘Manda. Please don’t be sorry. I know how much you hate being coddled, but I need you to let me take care of you. If you won’t do it for you, then do it for me. I want to be here for you, okay? So, please—what can I do?”

Amanda murmured something that Olivia couldn’t make out. “What was that, sweetheart?”

She spoke up. “Take me back to yesterday?”

Olivia nodded in understanding, her lower lip quivering as she reached out to delicately brush a thumb over Amanda’s cheek. “I wish I could.”

“Everything was okay yesterday. Yesterday, we were talking about moving in together and watchin’ stupid cop shows in your living room.” Amanda sniffed. “Yesterday, it didn’t hurt to move and I didn’t have to decide between getting drugged again and getting raped again with no pain relief.” There was no tact to the phrasing, and Amanda regretted it instantly when she saw the look on Olivia’s face.

“You don’t have to do either,” Olivia reminded her, reaching up to wipe a tear of her own. “We have plenty of evidence.”

“I know,” Amanda replied, “but so do I. Which is why I really don’t have a choice. And that’s okay. I know how important the kit is, but I can’t do it under the influence of anything. I won’t take a muscle relaxant. I hope you can respect that, but if you can’t watch me go through this, I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay.”

“Of course I can, baby. Of course I can respect that—I’m not going to try to coerce you into doing something you don’t want to do. And I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here, holding your hand, for however long it takes. I promise.”

Amanda nodded. “Liv, are you guys gonna get my statement?”

It was a quick change of subject, but Olivia understood why it weighed heavily on Amanda’s mind. “We were going to do the kit first.” 

The younger woman shook her head. “No, let's do both at the same time. I'm gonna need a distraction.”

Olivia was skeptical. This probably wasn’t the kind of distraction that would help. “Are you sure?” she checked. Amanda nodded. “Okay, since you and I are together, we’ll need someone else here to witness the statement. Do you have a preference for Fin or Amaro?”

“Isn’t Fin already here?”

Olivia’s head bobbed up and down. “I’ll call him.”

When Vanessa came back into the room, she handed Amanda an informed consent form and a pen. “Do you have any questions about what you see on the consent form?” she asked after a minute or so.

Amanda shook her head, “Nope.”

“Okay, Amanda, after you sign that form, I’m going to pass you another piece of paper. This will have a diagram of the front and back of the human body. I want you to indicate with either circles or Xs anywhere on your body that you were touched without your consent. We just want to have a record of it. Does that make sense?” 

The blonde nodded, trading out the informed consent form for the diagram Vanessa handed her. Amanda quickly scribbled a few Xs on the paper in front of her before handing it back to the nurse and quickly explaining to her that she planned to go through the entire exam and didn’t want painkillers or any other drugs. Once she had packed up the paperwork, Vanessa reached to grab the first envelope out of the kit. “You ready to start?”

Amanda nodded, jumping slightly when she heard a knock on the wall by the curtain separating the rest of the world from her. It was Fin, who came to stand next to Olivia. “You ready to do this?” the man asked.

One second at a time.

“So,” Fin began, “you said Patton was your old Chief?”

Amanda nodded, opening her mouth for Vanessa to swab. “It's...a long story. Let’s just say that we didn’t have a great working relationship.”

“One more swab to collect your DNA,” Vanessa indicated, waiting for her patient to open her mouth once more.

“Amanda, I know this is hard,” Olivia said softly, “but we need all this information. Can we start with what happened in Atlanta?”

After the buccal swab, Amanda asked for a sip of water, handing the cup off to Olivia when she was done. “So, he was your stereotypical sexist boss. He would call us ‘sweetheart’ condescendingly and he would wolf whistle at all the women on the squad, and it was sex crimes, so there were a lot of us. To make a long story short, a few months before I left, my sister was in deep shit—legal shit. He offered to get the charges dropped if I made it worth his while. I’d never had sex with a man before and I didn’t want to, but I was terrified—Kim was gonna be doin’ some serious time, and I was her big sister.”

“Nobody is blaming you for that, love,” Liv soothed, running her fingers lightly through Amanda’s hair, gently trying to untangle the mess. Where was this going? Did Patton rape Amanda in Georgia too? How did Olivia not know about this?

“You’re doin’ great, Rollins,” Fin said. “What happened next?”

“He told me to meet him at a hotel, and I did. He started kissin’ me and I just remember being so nauseous. I couldn’t go through with it. I knew Kim was gonna go to jail, but I just couldn’t let him touch me. Once he had me on the bed, I began to fight him off, and I was sure—I was sure—that he was going to rape me. But he didn’t. Eventually, he got off of me and just angrily stormed off. I put in my notice the next day.”

Vanessa appeared again in the blonde’s field of vision. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Detectives, but Amanda, do you know what happened to your clothes?”

Amanda shook her head. “He must have thrown them out. There was definitely DNA on them.”

The nurse turned to Olivia. “Do you think it may be possible to recover them, especially her underwear?”

Olivia pulled out her phone. “I’m texting Detective Amaro to notify CSU and search for them.”

Vanessa nodded. “And as far as trace evidence and debris, can I ask how you got the laceration on your forehead?”

“It was a rock.”

Olivia’s eyes snapped away from her cell phone and her head turned to Amanda. A rock. 

The nurse, wanting to move things along, stopped Olivia from asking about the injury. “Can you ask the detective to search for the rock as well?” After waiting for Olivia to finish her text, she turned to Amanda. “Dr. Wilde preserved some of the dirt from your wound before she cleaned it, and I just need your consent to include it in the kit.”

Olivia heard the words as she typed, registering that even though the doctor had said the criminal case wasn’t her priority, she clearly wanted to help after Amanda had been stabilized. 

“Alright, next is fingernail scrapings. You all can keep talking now. I’ll just need your hand, Amanda. I’m going to use this tool to collect anything that’s under your fingernails. It shouldn’t hurt, but let me know if it does.”

Amanda surrendered her right hand to Vanessa first, turning back to Fin and Olivia, who had put her phone back in her pocket. “Where was I? Oh yeah.” She inwardly cringed at the casual tone of her voice, knowing she was putting on a show at this point. She knew she could be honest with Olivia and her partner, and she was being truthful, but she wasn’t feeling as calm, cool, and collected as she was pretending to be. The last thing she wanted to do, though, was make this experience even more unbearable for Olivia. “So, I moved to New York, and I hadn’t heard from Patton since. I thought it was over, that my nightmare with him was over. I thought this was my fresh start, you know. Away from my toxic family, my abusive boss. I had an amazing new squad, an angel of a girlfriend. Things were gonna be okay.” Her voice broke as she lifted her left hand for Vanessa to examine.

Olivia wrapped an arm around the younger woman’s shoulders, gently guiding her to rest her head against her chest. “Just breathe, baby. Just breathe.” The fingers of Liv’s right hand gingerly massaged the skin of Amanda’s scalp tenderly. The brunette wanted to ground her to the present moment, and though it wasn’t an amazing place to be for the young detective, she was at the very least safe in the here and now. “When you can, Amanda, try to tell us what happened today.”

The blonde nodded, sitting up and pulling slightly away from Olivia, before wiping at her eyes with tender fingertips that were recently freed from Vanessa’s grasp. “Um…” She took a deep breath. “After you dropped me off, I was walking up the courthouse steps, and my phone vibrated. I saw that it was Patton and my heart sank into my stomach. He said that he was in New York, he was watching me, and he wasn’t gonna leave until he had either me or you, Liv. He threatened you, Olivia, and I just couldn’t let him touch you. He said it was my decision.” The survivor laughed bitterly. “You or me. Like that was any choice at all. He sent me the address and told me that if I told anyone, he would…he said he would rape you, Liv, and that maybe—just maybe—if he was feelin’ merciful, he’d kill you after.”

Olivia’s fingers delicately caressed the blonde’s cheeks, not being able to wipe away tears more quickly than they fell from her eyes. “We would have figured it out, baby,” she insisted.

Amanda shook her head. “I couldn’t take that risk.”

Olivia understood. She would have done the same thing. “So, what happened with the rock?”

“I quickly put the address in my drafts, hoping you would find it, and then I threw out my phone. I wasn’t sure where Patton was, but if he was watching me, I wanted him to know that I was cooperating with him. When I got to the building, he blitzed me. I think he wanted me disoriented while he injected the paralytic because it had a delayed effect.”

Vanessa opened the next envelope, nodding. “Pancuronium bromide does take two to four minutes for onset of muscle weakness.” She stepped up to Amanda. “I need a sample of hair from your head, okay?” Amanda’s head bobbed. Was time speeding up or were they racing through this kit? It seemed like it had been barely any time at all since they had started, and the blonde knew they were well into the pile of envelopes. “Slight pinch,” the nurse warned, tugging at the root of a blonde hair.

“Did he say anything?” Fin asked, wanting to get them back on topic.

Amanda nodded, rubbing at the now sore spot on her head. “So much. He didn’t stop talking, and I’m sure I don’t even remember everything he said. But I just keep hearing ‘you don’t get to decide this time.’ He must have been so mad in Atlanta when I refused him. Today, he took away my ability to fight him off, to say no.” She looked up at Olivia, needing an anchor to reality. “I just lied there,” she wailed. “There won’t be any DNA under my fingernails or any defensive wounds. I couldn’t protect myself. He raped me. He raped me and I just had to take it. When he was done, he closed my eyes and left. I don’t know where he went, or how long I was alone. It hurt so bad and I was so cold, I knew I was dyin’.”

Fin was taking notes, so Olivia decided to focus on her girlfriend for a moment. “You’re safe now, my love. You’re going to be okay, and you’ll never have to go through that again. You’ll never be touched against your will again. Never.”

Amanda nodded at the sentiment, knowing it wasn’t quite true as Vanessa rolled up the tray carrying what she would need to gather the rest of the evidence she planned on collecting. 

“Are you okay with me getting a medical assistant in here to help with collecting the rest of the samples? It’s just so we can move through this part faster,” she justified, walking towards the phone and placing a quick call after receiving a nod from Amanda. 

A minute later, a young woman entered the room with them. “This is Heidi,” Vanessa introduced, “and she’s just going to assist me with putting everything in the envelopes, okay?”

The young woman waved at the crowd of people she was being introduced to before moving to stand next to Vanessa.

“Okay, we’re going to take a break from talking during this,” Olivia announced, ushering Fin out of the room before once again sitting at the edge of the bed as Vanessa helped the blonde scoot once again to the end of the bed and guided Amanda’s feet to rest in the pair of stirrups she had erected at the foot of the ER cot. “Is it okay if I let her rest her head in my lap? It seemed to help her relax earlier,” she explained to the nurse.

Vanessa nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. That’s a great idea. Okay, Amanda, I’m going to start with combing and pulling your pubic hair, and then we’ll do the peri-anal and anal swabs. Are you okay with those things?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, feeling Olivia place a pillow in between her own lap and her hair.

“Go ahead and lie back,” the brunette gently coaxed, letting her fingers glide gently through semi-matted blonde locks. 

“I’m going to comb your pubic hair first,” Vanessa explained, holding up the comb. “This is just to collect any of your attacker’s hair that’s mixed in with yours. Is it okay if I do that now?” 

Amanda nodded, noting the odd juxtaposition of feeling Olivia’s fingers lovingly combing through the hair on her head and the pubic hair comb working harshly between her legs. 

“I’m going to pull one of your pubic hairs, the same way I did on your head,” Vanessa clarified, “that way we have your DNA to compare the comb sample to.”

Amanda winced at the yanking, looking up at Olivia. “When they discharge me, can we go back to your apartment? I really don’t want to be alone.”

“My love, you don’t ever have to be alone again. You can stay at my place. I don’t want to be alone either.” Olivia had been scared, like really scared. More empty than she’d felt when her mother told her for the first time who her real father was, more helpless than she’d felt in Sealview prison when she’d accepted that she was going to be raped, more terrified than when she’d heard that Elliot had put in his papers and wouldn’t be returning to SVU. All those things had made her feel isolated, but until that morning, she had never felt so completely alone. She had never in her entire life been as afraid as she had been at the exact moment she realized that Amanda was missing.

“I guess this is a good excuse to move in together,” Amanda acknowledged, feeling Olivia’s pointer finger draw lines up and down the bridge of her nose.

Vanessa held up a swab. “Going to collect the anal samples now. I need you to relax your legs all the way to the side for me. Great. Thank you, Amanda. This shouldn’t be painful at all.” The blonde felt some light pressure, but so far, this wasn’t as bad as she had expected it to be, and she gave Olivia a reassuring smile, hoping to calm her own nerves in the process. 

Amanda watched as the swabs were handed off to Heidi, who diligently placed them in the envelopes they belonged in. “How are you doing, Amanda?” the nurse asked, pausing for a moment to check in. 

After the detective indicated she was okay, Vanessa took another swab from the medical assistant. “Okay. I’m going to get two more samples without the speculum. The first one is a vulvar swab, so that’s just going to be the area outside your vagina. You’re going to feel the swab on your thigh and I’m going to slowly move it up, so you know what to expect. Okay, here we go. Really quick swab.”

One second at a time.

The brunette watched as her girlfriend’s brow furrowed momentarily, unsure if it was in response to pain or to general discomfort and anxiety, but she whispered words of comfort anyway, seeing that the swab being pulled away from Amanda had some dried blood on it. 

“You’re doing great, Amanda. I’m going to get a sample from just inside your vaginal canal now. Same thing as before, moving the swab down your leg. This time take a deep breath for me, and now breathe out. Great. Try to relax your legs again. I’m going to give you a break. Keep breathing.” 

Amanda wondered how long Vanessa had been a Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner because it seemed ingrained in her, almost as if her body just knew what to do. Was this a coping mechanism, a way for the nurse to allow herself to never be completely vulnerable to vicarious trauma, or was she simply that efficient and that compassionate naturally? The blonde knew one thing—she would never volunteer to do this job.

“Okay, Amanda, I want you to be honest with me here,” Vanessa said gently. “Do you want to go forward with the speculum exam?”

The blonde didn’t want to be given an out. The idea of being done was so very tempting, but she knew what she felt in her body, and she could tell she had injuries worth documenting. “I do,” she eventually answered, breathing out forcefully.

“Do you want to take a break first?” the nurse gave as an option, but her patient shook her head. Amanda wanted to do this, but she also wanted to be done, so she hoped all of that got through to Vanessa in the simple shake of her head.

She chose not to watch as Heidi placed some lube on the side of the plastic instrument and handed it off to Vanessa. “Okay, Amanda, the speculum is going in. Take a deep breath for me, and now exhale slowly.”

Olivia wanted to tear her eyes away from the look on the love of her life’s face, but that was a selfish urge. The blonde needed her to be fully present and capable of providing comfort. “Keep your eyes on me,” the older woman advised, grasping tightly to both of Amanda’s hands. “Slow breaths,” she reminded gently, “and squeeze my hands as hard as you can.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Amanda sniffled, letting her toes wrap around the tops of the stirrups as they curled.

She felt the movement inside of her still, and Vanessa spoke before Liv could. “You’re doing great, Amanda, but I need you to try and relax your toes before I continue.”

Olivia nodded at her girlfriend, giving her permission once more to squeeze her hands, before the blonde tried to shift the tension in her body from her legs to her hands. The nurse indicated she was going to complete the insertion of the speculum, waiting for a quick nod before opening it up.

“Am I bleeding?” Amanda gasped, bearing down on Olivia’s hands. 

“Most of the blood I’m seeing is old,” Vanessa softly explained, “but we’re keeping tabs on your vitals, and I’m ready to stop at the point at which this becomes dangerous. What I want you to focus on right now, Amanda, is breathing and keeping your body as relaxed as possible.”

Once Amanda had regained her composure, holding tightly to Olivia’s hands still, she nodded her permission for Vanessa to continue. “I’m going to do the cervical swab first. You’ll feel some pressure and possibly some cramping, but nothing worse than what you experience during your period.”

Olivia, seeing Amanda slam her eyes shut and bury her face into the brunette’s lap as Vanessa inserted the swab, was becoming frustrated and more than a little nauseous. “Can you be a little more gentle?”

Amanda rushed to Vanessa’s defense. “She is being gentle, Liv. It’s the speculum.”

Handing the swab off to Heidi, Vanessa grabbed hold of the specialty microscope. “The only thing left to do is the colposcopy imaging. I can probably do it pretty quickly. I know you’re in pain, but your vitals are relatively normal, considering the stress you’re under, so if you can hold on for a few more minutes—” 

“Just do it,” Amanda interrupted. “I’m okay.”

For that moment, Olivia was glad Amanda’s eyes were closed. She didn’t want her to see her cry. She had originally tried to stop herself, but eventually she figured it was no use. Still, Amanda had enough hurt to bear without worrying about the brunette too. Olivia piped up, “Can I ask—what kind of injuries are we looking at? Are they severe?”

As the pain she was feeling leveled out, Amanda was able to catch her breath enough to fully focus on the nurse’s answer. “I hesitate to use the word ‘severe’ in this situation, but I also hesitate to use the word ‘average’.” She spoke to both women softly, after a moment handing the colposcope off to Heidi. “There’s no question in my mind that this was a violent assault, not that my opinion should be needed for anyone to come to that conclusion. But, Olivia, if you’re needing reassurance about recovery, I will tell you that in my experience, these injuries heal remarkably fast. And nothing I see is causing me any concern.” 

Vanessa shifted her attention to Amanda. “I’m going to pull the speculum out now. Again, try to relax and take deep breaths.” After she’d discarded the tool, she assisted Amanda in sitting at the edge of the bed with her legs hanging off, giving her a sympathetic smile in response to the grimace she saw as she shifted positions. “You did great, Amanda,” the nurse praised, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m leaving you a cooling maxi-pad and some soft cotton underwear. I’ll be back in a little while for a blood and urine sample, and I’ll also bring emergency contraception, HIV post-exposure prophylaxis, and antibiotics. Would you like some Tylenol as well?”

Amanda decided to gift herself the small mercy of acetaminophen. “Yes.”

“Is there anything else I can get for you?”

At the shake of her patient’s head, the nurse excused herself politely, and Amanda and Olivia were left alone to process the contents of the last few hours. 

Early the next morning, before Dr. Wilde had even made her rounds, there was a knock at Amanda’s new hospital room door. A worse for wear Alex Cabot entered after being given permission, slowly approaching her injured friend, feeling for the first time self-conscious about her relationship with Amanda. Did she know that the ADA had simply assumed the detective had abandoned their victim in court? Would she be angry at her? After a lingering silence, she decided to chance a “Hey, how are you feeling?”

Amanda chuckled lightly with a small wince, not really knowing what to make of an insecure Alex. “Definitely feel like I've been hit by a truck. I'm so sorry about your case. Does Mallory know what happened?”

Alex held up her hand to stop the apology. “Don't worry about it, Amanda. And of course Mallory is understanding. The judge gave me a recess so we can regroup.”

“Oh, okay,” Amanda replied, “just tell me when you need me. I can testify—"

“Amanda, you don't need to do that.” Alex demurred. “God knows we've done more with less. I can figure out a way around your testimony. Just focus on getting better, okay?”

Was Alex telling Amanda not to worry about a trial? “Okay,” she hesitantly accepted. “And any updates on...my case?” It felt weird to refer to it that way, although Amanda had officially been a survivor for almost twenty-four hours. Did she deserve a chip like the ones she got in Gamblers Anonymous? Should someone bake her a cake?

Alex nodded, happy to be helpful. “Right now, the plan is to arraign on Monday. I’m working on expediting the process of getting the rape kit down to forensics for testing ASAP.”

Amanda was a survivor now, sure, but what she wasn’t was special. “Um, no. Guys, you know as well as I do that if I weren't a cop, those boxes would be sittin' in storage for at least a few days, and that's bein' generous. My kit waits in line to get tested behind everyone else's. If I get justice and a pro walkin' the streets doesn't, what are we sayin'? That's not really justice. Treat me like any other survivor because if you don't, I'll decline to press charges and the only way you'll get me in court is with a subpoena. And trust me, I'll be a hostile witness. We go through proper channels, or I'm out.”

Alex eyed the older detective, knowing she was the one who had originally made the call to rush the collected evidence to ME Warner. “Liv, you okay with this?”

Liv was not okay with this. Amanda was not just any other survivor. She was Amanda, but the last thing the experienced SVU detective wanted to do was take the right to self-determination away from her girlfriend. “It's not my choice to make.”

Alex nodded, knowing she had to respect Amanda’s wishes. “Okay, but we’re going to need all the evidence we can get. Patton invoked.”

One second at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!


	4. Arraignment Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.   
> Please be safe everyone! Stay at home if you can, and wash your hands!   
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Arraignment Part 2

The shower was quickly becoming the blonde’s favorite place to be. On Friday night, almost immediately after photos had been taken and every inch of her body had been examined with a black light, she begged the next nurse she saw to allow her to take a shower. Of course, Amanda’s care team had worried about the risks of getting her still freshly stitched head wound wet, among other things, but soon a shower cap was found, and a compromise was made. The detective could have sixty seconds under a stream of hot water, and Amanda could have sworn that they were the most relieving sixty seconds of her entire life. And she milked those sixty seconds, proving beyond any reasonable doubt that she was capable of holding herself up and walking on her own, using that as leverage to earn just a little more time.

Saturday had gone by in a flash, and after Alex left that morning, Amanda negotiated her way into taking another shower. By the time she was discharged that night, she could—at least on the surface—convince herself that she was clean. There was a small amount of talk that day that Patton’s attorney was working on getting an arraignment hearing earlier than Monday, but by the time Sunday night came around, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen.

At this point, Amanda was a pro at applying waterproof bandages, and she was also becoming extraordinarily good at scrubbing herself down with soap and scalding water to the point of being satisfied that she was no longer dirty, while also avoiding rubbing her skin raw so that it wouldn’t garner Olivia’s attention or worry.

The detective reached to wipe away some of the condensation that had obscured her view of herself through the mirror in front of her in Olivia’s bathroom, wincing quietly at the strain it put on her still incredibly sore body. How long was this supposed to last and when should she be concerned? She sighed as she stared at her reflection, pruny fingers traveling to meet some bruising along her right cheekbone. A knock at the door startled her.

“’Manda?”

The blonde quickly pulled on a bath robe. “You can come in,” she invited softly, reaching for a brush to detangle the mess that her hair had become.

“Hey,” the older woman gently greeted, entering the bathroom and sliding the door shut behind her. “I just wanted to check and see if you wanted some dinner.”

Amanda’s face involuntarily contorted in disgust. “I’m sorry, I just…don’t think I’d be able to keep anythin’ down.”

Olivia nodded. Of course she understood. She, herself, was fighting an unrelenting ball of nausea that caused anything she ate to fight to come back up. And if the brunette could barely stomach food, then she simply couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable the mere thought of eating was for Amanda. “I know, baby, I just worry. You haven’t eaten anything but a bite of toast since we’ve been home, and I want your body to have everything it needs in order to heal.”

Amanda reached behind her with the brush she held, weakly attempting to move the bristles through the bird’s nest attached to her head, wincing and giving up with an eventual grunt. “Well, I never knew rape made your arm hurt, but it does,” she observed, letting the hairbrush clang down onto the bathroom vanity.  
Olivia, unfazed, gestured to the brush. “May I?”  
Amanda shallowly nodded passive assent, turning slightly to face away from her girlfriend after handing her the brush. Olivia hummed, gingerly moving all of Amanda’s hair to rest behind her shoulders. “Is it your entire body or your arm specifically?” 

The blonde shrugged. “I just kind of ache, and movin’ makes it worse.”

Olivia nodded, carefully holding a piece of Amanda’s hair as she brushed it, wanting to spare her any more pain. “I want you to know that I’m here to help, love, okay?”

Amanda sighed, but didn’t respond, allowing herself to focus on the sensation of Liv’s fingers running through her hair. This was the most physical contact they’d had with each other since the younger woman was discharged from the hospital. She knew Olivia was just trying to be careful, that she just wanted to keep her comfortable, but Amanda was craving good, safe, healthy touch now more than she ever had. She had no idea how to say this to Olivia, but in addition to the showers, it was as if the brunette’s delicate caress washed away the bad, the dirty, the painful.   
In the younger detective’s silence, Olivia was also able to think some. She had done her best to make sure Amanda knew that she would be there for her through everything, and if she were making an accurate assessment, Olivia could have sworn that even before this, the relationship the two women had was always one that was conducive to good communication and an open exchange of thoughts. Because of her beliefs about the nature of their relationship, something had been bothering Olivia since Amanda gave her statement on Friday afternoon, and now was as good of a time as ever for her to seek clarification and assurance. “Can I ask you a question about Atlanta?” The inquiry was hesitant, but it blew out of Olivia in a rush, almost as if she were afraid she’d regret the words. 

The silence in the room was palpable as Amanda considered her options. The brunette was still tenderly combing through the blonde’s damp hair, so she didn’t seem angry. After a few moments, she convinced herself replying would probably be safe. “Sure, okay.”

“Why didn't you tell me before?” Amanda caught a glimpse of Olivia’s face in the mirror with the corner of her right eye. The woman looked hurt. “I would have been able to handle it.”

Amanda’s breath caught in her throat. This is not what she was trying to accomplish by keeping what happened in Atlanta to herself. “It’s not that I didn’t think you could handle it, Liv, I didn’t want you to have to.” The blonde turned to face Olivia when she felt that the older woman was done brushing her hair. “When we first met,” she continued, “I wanted you to like me, and after we started dating, I just didn’t want it to complicate things. I didn't want your pity, and I didn't want you to think I'm someone who just runs from my problems.”

Olivia slowly shook her head. “I wouldn't have thought that,” she breathed, reaching out to intertwine her fingers with Amanda’s. She had been very careful and discerning when deciding whether or not to touch her girlfriend, but it was important to her that the blonde absorbed her words. If she hadn’t felt comfortable sharing her experience in Atlanta with Olivia before, it was important to the long-time SVU detective that she felt safe talking to her going forward. “I would have thought that you weren't safe in Atlanta, and you made the decision to protect yourself. And I would have been proud of you for confiding in me.” Amanda nodded wordlessly, and Olivia, knowing she was overwhelmed by the moment, released her hand with one last squeeze. “I’ll let you get dressed.”

Amanda couldn’t bring herself to speak before Olivia left the bathroom. Was she angry? She wasn’t acting angry. She was acting disappointed, like a parent who expected better of you. 

No.

Olivia was being kind and generous as usual, and she was doing her best to conceal the hurt that Amanda had caused her. God, Amanda felt so stupid. It felt like every decision she’d made in the past few days had just made things worse. She wanted to protect Liv from Patton, and it ended up hurting Liv. She decided to go through the rape kit, and watching the process was painful for Liv. She hadn’t eaten to avoid throwing up on the brunette’s carpet, and it was worrying Liv. Amanda was genuinely feeling like she couldn’t do anything right, and she didn’t deserve to be surrounded by Olivia’s compassion.

She needed to explain herself.

After she had thrown on a nightgown and cotton underwear, lined with another cooling pad that was generally given to women post-partum, Amanda guiltily padded out of the bathroom and into the bedroom that they had begun to share. Olivia was folding laundry on the bed, and the brunette looked up with a soft smile as the younger woman carefully sat next to her. “Liv, what happened in Atlanta really wasn't a big deal. And I didn't want it to affect our relationship. I didn't want you on edge when we had sex, and I just didn't want to burden you. He didn't even rape me then. He just assaulted me. It didn't get far.” 

Olivia nodded, but the word choice made her uncomfortable. “I don't think ‘just’ is appropriate language for what he did.”

Amanda shrugged. She knew Liv was just trying to help her acknowledge the seriousness of the crimes committed against her, but it was so much to process. “It’s the language I feel comfortable usin’ right now. The past few days have been a lot, and I’m just tryin’ to get through the next few, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

The brunette looked down at the way her girlfriend was fingering the fabric of the nightgown she wore, and she couldn’t fight the urge to reach out and still the anxious movements. The maneuver was gentle though, and Amanda easily surrendered to the comfort, looking up expectantly for a response. “’Manda, I…” The older woman sighed after a moment, still trying to get her thoughts together. “I’m having a really hard time explaining how I’m feeling about all this. But I want to try because it’s going to be important for us to be real with each other, you know?” 

Amanda nodded, not used to Olivia expressing such explicit vulnerability. “Okay.” She swallowed hard. “Tell me. I…uh, I wanna know.”

Olivia gave her a sad smile, squeezing the hand she held delicately. “Watching you go through this is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I also want you to know that I am so grateful that you’re still here. So, if you can, please talk to me. Please let me in.”

Amanda felt a tear threaten to fall from her eye, and she reached to wipe it away, her hand being stopped on its journey by one of Olivia’s. As the tear began to fall over a pale cheek, the blonde watched her girlfriend intensely as she—with the most gentle touch she had ever felt—gingerly wiped it away. It was the most intimate touch Amanda had felt in several days. It was certainly more intimate than the first time the two women had slept together, and that was saying something. Amanda gasped softly at the sensation, waiting as Liv kept her hand delicately cupped over the now wet cheek.

The blonde decided that there wouldn’t be a better time to talk to Liv about something she’d been putting off. “There is something you need to know, and I want to tell you before it comes out in discovery.” Olivia nodded, brushing her thumb over one more tear. Amanda took a deep breath. “In those swabs from the kit, forensics will find saliva.” 

Olivia’s hand stilled on Amanda’s cheek. “Saliva. And you’re not talking about the oral swabs?”

Amanda placed her own hand over Liv’s. “No, I’m not.”

The brunette hastily pulled away from her girlfriend and stood up, immediately beginning to pace the small area between the bed and the bathroom. “He put his mouth on you?” The older woman covered her lips with the hand that had previously been resting on Amanda’s cheek. “Jesus Christ!”

Amanda had known this would be a mistake, but she wanted to show Olivia that she trusted her. Could she trust her? “Liv, this is why I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want you to be angry.” 

Olivia gestured wildly, taking up more space than was comfortable for the blonde. “Well, you know what? I am angry. I'm so fucking angry I could hit something!”

Amanda had only seen the brunette act this way with perps. “Olivia, you're scaring me.”

Her features instantly softened, and she kneeled down on the carpet below Amanda, placing both hands on each of her girlfriend’s knees. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm not mad at you, okay? You know that, right?” 

The younger woman didn’t know that. I mean, Liv sure seemed mad. And she had gotten that way after she had spoken. She wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she was expecting realistically, but she didn’t like the yelling, and the blonde consciously tried to slow her breathing as she whispered, “Are you sure?”

Olivia nodded, wishing desperately that she could take back the last several seconds. She was getting through to Amanda, and she had convinced her to share a painful memory with her, and now she had ruined that progress. She could have scaled down her anger, could have directed her attention towards the love of her life, not the piece of shit that had brought them here. “Of course. I am angry, but you haven’t done anything wrong, and I’m going to try to do better. I need to be focusing on you, not him. And now that I’m noticing myself react in this way, I’m understanding why you’ve hesitated to talk to me. I’m so sorry if it ever felt like it wasn’t a good idea. And I’m so sorry that I just exploded like that. That’s not…that’s not who I am, and I don’t want you to see me as an angry person. I want to be a comfort to you, not a threat.”

“I don’t blame you for being upset.” And truly, Amanda didn’t blame her for having that reaction. As her heart settled in her chest, she was able to form a coherent thought. They needed to get back to where they were before the blonde had brought up Patton. “If the situation were reversed,” Amanda admitted, pulling Olivia up by her hands to sit next to her again, “I don’t know what I’d do. But you’re right, we need to focus on each other. You know, I left out some of the details with my statement to you and Fin because—well, truthfully, I’m not completely ready to admit it all happened. But when I’m ready, I want to share with you because I know that talking about it helps with healing, but I just don’t want to hurt you.”

Olivia grimaced in response to the end of her girlfriend’s statement. “I can’t promise that I won’t be upset by the things you tell me. I’m only human,” she conceded, “and I can’t hold myself to higher than a human standard. But,” the brunette emphasized, once more holding tightly to one of Amanda’s hands, “what I can promise is that I will never be upset with you. And I do still want you to talk to me. I want your honesty, even if it hurts. And you can tell me if I ever react in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.” Amanda gave a sad smile, leaning in to lie her head on Olivia’s shoulder. The blonde sighed softly as she felt her girlfriend’s lips against her hair. Maybe Liv was getting the message about physical comfort being soothing to the younger woman. She let a beat go by, savoring the contact, before she asked, “Are you gonna go to arraignment in the morning?”

Olivia pressed one more kiss to Amanda’s head, this time right over the bandaging that covered her stitches. “I think I’m needed here more.” She brushed some hair back away from the younger woman’s face. “Can I help with that vacuum seal?”

A small smirk played on the brunette’s lips as she asked the question, and Amanda couldn’t resist smiling in return. It felt good to smile, like she was flexing muscles that she hadn’t in a while, and there was a soreness there, but it was also such a relief to give in to a pleasant emotion. She nodded. And what was that weird sensation she felt in her stomach? “Do you think maybe after I could have some plain pasta?”

“Well, you’re getting adventurous.” Liv began to gently pull Amanda’s handiwork away from her healing head wound. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

It was still dark, but Amanda remembered that there would be a light at the end of this tunnel. And its name had to be Olivia.

The next morning, Olivia found Amanda sitting on the couch in her living room. The woman had her knees pulled to her chest, and she seemed to be quietly in her own world. “Hey,” the brunette greeted   
softly after the younger detective had looked up. “I got a little nervous when you weren’t in bed next to me. You okay?”

Another decision that scared Olivia.

“Yeah, I…uh….” Amanda fought to find words. “I had a nightmare, and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

As she sat down next to her girlfriend, Liv noticed the red eyes and puffy cheeks, and she wished she were a lighter sleeper. How did Amanda sneak out of the bedroom—crying—without the older woman waking up? “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Amanda sniffled, wiping her nose with the worse-for-wear tissue she’d had clasped tightly in her hand for over an hour. “It’s okay. It’s par for the course.” When Olivia just watched her with worried eyes, the blonde decided to confide in her. She realized that the decisions she was making that made things worse for Liv were decisions she was making without consulting her, decisions she was making on her own because she assumed she had to. It was hard for Amanda to remind herself she wasn’t alone. “You know, sometimes I can almost take a whole deep breath. And then I remember, and it all comes crashin’ down. I've spent years telling survivors that I understood how hard it is.” She shook her head, speaking at a snail’s pace. “I didn't. I mean, Liv, I could have died. I almost died.”

The brunette’s head bobbed with a shaky breath. “I know you did. And words cannot even begin to describe how grateful I am that you didn't. But baby, I know that there will be days that you're not so grateful. And I don't want you to feel guilty on those days. This is going to be hard. I know it. You know it. And it's okay to not be okay. I want you to know that I will be right here by your side for all of it.   
All of it, okay? In the good, the bad, the justice, the unfairness, the setbacks, and the healing. All of it.”

Amanda wiped both of her eyes with what remained of the tissue. “You promise?”

“With everything I have to give.”

At the courthouse, a judge was reading Patton his rights and explaining what he was being charged with—rape in the first degree. Alex wasn’t holding back. This was going to be the most consequential case of her career, and not because she stood to lose or gain much professionally—and she did—but because she had never prosecuted a colleague’s, and dare she say friend’s, attacker before. This was as high stakes as high stakes come. 

The ADA became distracted by her own thoughts momentarily. Luckily her attention was garnered by the judge asking Patton’s attorney how they would like to plead. 

“Not guilty, your honor.” Alex could barely resist the eye roll that tempted her as the man spoke. Of course John Buchanan would represent Patton. The defense attorney wasn’t afraid to play dirty, but that was okay, Alex thought, because neither was she. And it’s not as if the woman hadn’t beaten his arrogant ass in court before, though it had been a few years and it had never been a case like this. “And we'd like to state for the record that my client is extremely offended by this accusation, being he is an esteemed sex crimes deputy chief, and the idea that he would rape a former subordinate is ridiculous.”

Alex decided to stop fighting the eye roll. "The mere notion that an experienced sex crimes detective would falsely accuse your client of something as egregious as rape is simply absurd."

The judge, a no-nonsense kind of woman, thrusted her hand out to halt the arguing. “Save it for the jury, counselors. I’ll hear from the people on bail?"

Alex cleared her throat. This was a fight she had to win. "Alexandra Cabot for the people, your honor. The defendant is not a resident of the state of New York, and therefore constitutes a flight risk. Due to that and the violent nature of the charge, we request remand."

The judge nodded swiftly, turning to Buchanan, who answered immediately. "We request ROR, obviously, your honor."

"Bail is set at fifty thousand. The defendant will surrender his passport and wear an ankle monitor.”

The attorney hadn’t yet been able to ascertain information about Patton’s financial means, and the last thing she wanted was for the man to make bail and be free to do whatever he wished. Before the judge could move on, Alex spoke once more. "In that case, your honor, the people request an order of protection. The defendant has made threats against Detective Rollins and another member of the Special Victims squad."

"So ordered. Next case."

Later that day, Amanda exited Olivia’s bathroom and walked to what had become her side of the bed, turning down the covers. The two women had decided to take a nap after hearing Alex’s recount of the arraignment hearing. Neither cop expected much better than what had happened, but the ADA promised to let them know if Patton made bail. The blonde was grateful that Olivia had chosen to stay at home with her instead of camping out in the courthouse bathroom—or whatever she would have decided to do—waiting for Alex’s report. This definitely felt safer to the younger woman, and safe was getting hard to come by. “I managed to pee without crying finally,” Amanda acknowledged. “Thank God for small victories.”

Olivia shut her laptop and placed it on her bedside table, wanting to give her girlfriend her full attention. She hummed softly, thoughtfully. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re doing, pain-wise.”

Amanda nodded, grimacing as she climbed under the covers. “I’ve definitely been worse,” was what she was willing to share, wanting to keep the statement short in order to conceal the rate of her breathing. 

Liv wordlessly reached out for her hand and Amanda assumed she wanted to provide comfort, so she was a little confused when the brunette’s pointer and middle fingers landed carefully on her wrist. 

Oh.

The cop was looking for evidence.

Of course.

“Sweetheart,” Olivia breathed after a moment, not even needing to wait more than a few seconds to get the information she was searching for. “Your heart is pounding.” How much of that was pain and how much was anxiety? And to what extent was each factor exacerbating the other?

“I told you yesterday that everything hurts. It’s gettin’ better, just not as fast as I would like.” Olivia nodded, using her pointer finger to travel along a clearly visible vein that ran up the blonde’s arm. “It’s just pain,” Amanda shrugged, making a weak argument. “I can live through pain.”

Liv watched as Amanda noticeably flinched away from her at the sound of a car horn honking outside the apartment. “I wish it were just pain.”

Amanda sighed, agreeing. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this chapter is shorter than usual, but I wanted you all to have something to read as we all hunker down and prepare to weather the storm that is this pandemic. I wish you all health and safety, and know that I’m here to talk if anyone needs/wants to. We will get through this together. Would love to know what you all think about this chapter, and I hope to be back with more soon.   
> Love,  
> Gabby


	5. Indictment Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.  
> I hope everyone is still doing okay! Wishing you all wellness and health. Please please please stay home if you can. It’s the right thing to do. Writing affords me some normalcy, and as an anxious person, it is much needed. I hope everyone can find a new healthy routine among this madness.  
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Indictment Part 1

As the weeks went by, Amanda was becoming frustrated with her own inability to confide in Olivia. She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. But every time she opened her mouth to speak, her throat clamped shut and all she could do was cry. Eventually, she didn’t see the point of even trying to open up, especially if her body wasn’t going to allow her to do so. Another betrayal. All she could do was lock herself in Olivia’s bathroom and let it out, as quietly as possible. 

It was supposed to get easier.

It wasn’t getting easier.

Olivia, for her part, knew she was being shut out. She hadn’t expected anything different, Amanda being Amanda and all, but it still stung. All she wanted was to be a support for her girlfriend, and she wasn’t being given as many opportunities as she would have liked to show that she cared. So, she decided to be a source of quiet strength for Amanda, offering soft smiles and gentle hand squeezes when they were natural, but she couldn’t shake the instinct that Amanda was needing more. On the off night that the blonde would curl into her to sleep instead of away, the older detective welcomed the contact and enthusiastically provided comfort. Olivia liked to think she knew Amanda extremely well, and she was willing to bet that the younger woman had—what she considered to be—a good reason for not actively going to her for support.

Though Amanda’s physical pain had faded away, it had definitely been replaced with a much more formidable anguish, something neither women really knew how to contend with on a day to day basis. 

Amanda felt empty. 

When Olivia had first told her that there would be days that she wished she hadn’t survived, she had brushed off the comment, figuring the brunette was simply covering her bases in making sure Amanda didn’t feel guilty about anything, but Liv had more experience with survivors than the younger woman did, and she knew what she was talking about. Amanda felt a push to return to normalcy, to pretend that it hadn’t even happened, but each time she entertained the idea, a nausea permeated her entire body. She hadn’t known before that one could feel nausea in their fingertips. She couldn’t forget. Regardless of whether or not she could, she knew she shouldn’t. What the blonde had been through was significant, and even if she could convince herself that what had happened with Patton in Atlanta was only a minor violation, there was no way to argue that point about the abandoned building several blocks away from the courthouse. 

She wanted it to stop. 

And she knew that no matter how hard she tried, Olivia couldn’t make it go away, and so there was really no point in clueing her in to a further extent than what was probably already self-evident. Doing so would just hurt the woman that clearly loved Amanda to a painful degree.

Amanda was suffering. 

Pain was one thing, so was anxiety. But true suffering was something else entirely. And it felt as if it were eating the blonde up alive. She felt guilty. She felt so guilty. Olivia deserved a fully functioning girlfriend, and a month after she was discharged from the hospital, Amanda was the farthest thing from fully functioning. 

Whatever that was. 

One afternoon, after a day at SVU, Olivia entered their bedroom to find the bathroom door slid shut. She wasn’t surprised, as this room is where Amanda spent much of her time, either curled up on the floor or in the shower. The older woman knew the door wouldn’t be locked, as they had made a deal that Amanda would leave the door unlocked always as long as Olivia promised to wait for permission to enter. It wasn’t a complicated negotiation, and it’s not like the brunette would ever have just brazenly entered the bathroom without warning.

Olivia knocked lightly at the door so as not to startle Amanda. “Sweetheart?” She heard a sniff from inside the room and took a moment to calm her voice. “Amanda, you’ve been in there for a while. Can I come in and see if you’re okay?”

Amanda knew she had to answer. She didn’t want to speak, so she considered standing up and opening the door for her girlfriend, but she was feeling incredibly fatigued and a little light-headed. She tried to clear her throat. “Ye-yes,” she eventually managed to croak. The truth is she didn’t want to be alone anymore, and though she knew logically that Liv was just waiting for an opportunity to take care of her, each time she longed to pull the older woman inside her hell, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wanted so badly to have Olivia by her side, but Amanda feared she’d never forgive herself if she let her see what was really going on inside her mind. 

The bathroom door slowly slid open, and Olivia popped her head inside, getting a glimpse at Amanda, who was sitting cross-legged against the bathtub. Liv silently padded into the room and took a seat next to her girlfriend, who was wearing sweats in the scorching heat of a New York July. Crossing her legs next to Amanda, she allowed the silence to linger, pausing for a brief moment to observe the blonde wiping away the last of her tears, a dull ache taking up residence in her chest. A part of Olivia wished she could grow desensitized to Amanda’s sadness, she almost expected it would happen, but another part of her knew that the pain of the woman she loved should always be uncomfortable for her to bear witness too. 

Amanda eventually broke the silence with a sad smile. “Do you remember when I first admitted that I had feelings for you?”

Olivia nodded, letting her lips rise in a small smile. “Of course. You were practically shaking. I’d never seen you look so scared.”

Amanda hummed. “I thought that moment—waiting for you to answer me—was going to be the most terrifyin’ moment of my entire life. I wish it still was.”

Olivia’s voice broke as she tucked a piece of Amanda’s hair behind her ear. “Talk to me, love. Please.”

The younger woman shook her head, wiping away some new tears. “There’s too much to say,” she whispered, and it was true. Several weeks of unproductive healing strategies had left her clogged up, in a metaphorical sense. She knew the moment she allowed even a little bit to slip through the cracks, the entire dam would collapse, and she’d inadvertently flood their lives with more misery. She didn’t want to do that to Olivia. 

“Well, let’s start with this,” Liv gently proposed, turning slightly to face Amanda more. “Can you tell me what you were crying about just now? Are you thinking about something in particular that I can help you process?”

Olivia was too good. And Amanda knew she was hurting her. But wouldn’t it hurt her more if she started talking? And today’s problem—well, she knew it would hit too close to home for Olivia. Then again, the blonde thought, everything she knew about her girlfriend told the younger detective that nothing would hurt her more than finding out just how much Amanda had been holding back. Maybe there was a way to let the water flow through the cracks slowly, without entirely destroying the wall Amanda had so painstakingly erected between them. Maybe there was a way to do this in a controlled manner. Olivia had only asked about something in particular, and there definitely was something in particular bothering her.

Amanda sighed. "I was feeling nauseous this morning and then I threw up. I just got this awful feelin’ in the pit of my stomach that I'm pregnant.”

Olivia felt an uneasy sensation grow within her, but she tried diligently to hide it from Amanda. “Oh?”

“And I know it’s irrational, and the mornin’ after pill is extremely effective, but if I was pregnant, would you hate me for wanting to get an abortion?" Amanda finally let her eyes meet Olivia’s, expecting judgement, but finding a much softer expression playing on the brunette’s face.

“So, first of all, I could never hate you, Amanda. Never.” Olivia spoke with certainty, but Amanda knew this was a sensitive subject, and she needed to know what her girlfriend thought. She would do anything to get Olivia to stay with her. "I don't think we're at a place where we need to have that conversation yet, love, but what I will say is that I would never presume to be entitled enough to your body that it would give me the right to try and tell you what to do with it. Okay?”

“Okay.” Was Olivia being serious? Amanda knew that her girlfriend always wanted to respect her choices, but this would be a different kind of choice. If she had an abortion, she’d be saying that a child that was the product of a rape didn’t deserve to live. The detective shook her head at herself. This wasn’t Georgia. And she wasn’t at church. There was no reason for her to feel guilty about what she chose to do with her own body. But actually, there was. Because besides the ethical considerations and the indoctrination about abortion, Amanda knew that this would be a blow to Olivia. She’d try to hide it, and she would never let it outwardly affect her response, but the blonde was acutely aware of the thoughts that Liv was trying to fight—thoughts about what the result of a sexual assault is really worth. What was she really worth?

The younger woman waited anxiously for Olivia to say something—anything—else. 

Olivia saw that Amanda was becoming overwhelmed with her own fears, and she wanted to bring her back to the present moment. Amanda didn’t even know if she was pregnant. “Our first step for now is getting you a pregnancy test, if only to make you feel better."

"I took four.” Amanda turned to reveal the four tests on the tile next to her. “They were all negative. I'm still not convinced."

"Do you want me to call Dr. Wilde? Alex has been in contact with her. You seemed to have good rapport at the hospital."

"No, what I really need to do is make a gynecologist appointment. Dr. Jones has been trying to get me in her office for follow up since right after I was discharged from the hospital. I also think I'm past due for a pap smear." 

Olivia nodded. "Okay, well one thing at a time."

Amanda wiped the remnants of tears and some sweat off of her face. "One second at a time."

“When did you get those tests anyway?” Olivia gently questioned. How much was her girlfriend keeping from her? “We don’t exactly keep them in the apartment.”

“A few weeks ago while you were at work.” Amanda felt icy shame begin to course through her veins, constrict her heart, and freeze her extremities. “I wanted to be prepared. I’m sorry I hid them from you.”

“It’s,” Olivia took a shaky breath, “it’s okay, baby. I know you’re doing your best.” What Liv wanted more than anything was to absolve Amanda of any guilt. It was more than understandable why the blonde hadn’t exactly been enthusiastic about sharing the news of this particular purchase with her girlfriend, but she still wished she had known. “Do you want me to call and make you an appointment to get your blood drawn and see Dr. Jones? Would you be more comfortable with that since I’ve known her longer?”

Amanda nodded, sighing. “You really are too good to me.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “What do you—what do you mean by that?”

“All you want is to help me,” she pointed out, “and I’m actin’ like you’re not even here. I don’t know if it’s a copin’ mechanism, or what, but it’s not okay. It’s not fair to you.”

“Hey, I know”—Olivia placed her own hand over Amanda’s heart lightly, and she watched as the blonde woman’s eyes bore into hers—“I know that you are struggling. You don’t have to say anything for me to see that.” She waited for Amanda to acknowledge her words, and then she dropped her hand onto her girlfriend’s lap, allowing the blonde to grasp onto it if she wanted. “I don’t feel out of the loop or like you’re ignoring the fact that I’m here, love. I see an intentional effort to spare me of pain.”

“Am I that obvious?” Amanda’s nose wrinkled, and she interlocked her fingers with Olivia’s. The brunette was giving her the benefit of the doubt and extending a lifeline. The blonde knew it was time to take it.

Olivia squeezed the hand Amanda had given over to her, offering a small smile and a quick nod. “Ever since the first words you said at the hospital. You were trying to crack jokes, you exhausted yourself trying to speak, kept thanking me for being there. You censored yourself pretty harshly during your statement to me and Fin. You didn’t even want to squeeze my hands during the exam. When we got home, you pretended to be in less pain than you were, and even though your ability to talk fully returned only hours after we found you, you’ve been guilting yourself into silence anyway.”

“That’s…” Amanda struggled to find words as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “…painfully accurate.”

“’Manda.” Olivia’s eyes watered, and she gently pulled her girlfriend onto her lap, a gesture Amanda hadn’t been able to allow herself to ask for, but she desperately craved the closeness. She rested her wet cheek against Liv’s forehead and waited for her to speak again. One of the brunette’s hands came to rest on Amanda’s thigh and the fingers of the other moved through blonde hair. “I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. I can’t lie and tell you that watching you struggle is easy for me, but I’m well-aware of my limits and my desires. What I want, baby, is to support you. I want you to tell me everything you want to share. I want to hold you every time you want to be held. If I need space, I will ask for space, just like I would want you to do.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you before. I know you don’t need me to protect you.” Amanda reluctantly pulled slightly away from her girlfriend’s hold, and wide blue eyes looked up at Olivia’s tearful expression, and the younger woman felt it in her chest when the dam broke. “I’m really sorry,” she sobbed, reburying her face into Liv’s shoulder, relishing strong arms squeezing her tightly and savoring soft lips caressing her hair.

“You don’t have to be sorry, my love,” Olivia cooed softly, gently rocking Amanda back and forth. “Just let it out. Cry as long as you need to.”

And that’s exactly what Amanda did. She didn’t count the seconds or the minutes, and she didn’t question the wisdom of her choice. She had all the assurance she needed in Olivia’s careful touch and loving words.

This, this was light.

A few days later, Amanda found herself in a doctor’s office, sitting next to Olivia, who stood next to her and joined their hands together. After Amanda had given her a urine sample, the nurse monotonously rattled off a list of questions, quickly typing on her computer.

“When was your last menstrual period?”

“Seven weeks ago.”

“Do you have any abnormal vaginal discharge?”

“No.”

“Have you been sexually active since your assault?”

“No.”

“Are you in pain today?”

“No.”

“Is anyone hurting or threatening you?”

“No.”

“Do you have any questions for your provider today?”

“No.”

Amanda had learned over the years that it was easier just to say no to that last one. 

The nurse finally looked up. “I see an order for some blood work, so I’m going to go ahead and get that now.”

The procedure was quick and relatively painless, though the feeling of having to remain still while a total stranger plunged a needle into her arm did cause her heart rate to accelerate. Olivia, always the clever schemer, had clandestinely placed two of her fingers over Amanda’s radial pulse, secretly monitoring it since the nurse had walked in. She noted that the thumping sped up at the question “Have you been sexually active since your assault?”. She also noticed the quickening of the beat as her blood was drawn, giving the blonde’s hand a squeeze when the nurse was finished. 

The nurse gave her first smile. “I’ll let Dr. Jones know you’re ready for her. She’ll be right in.”

Again, Amanda found herself thinking about time. As the clock above the door ticked, the younger woman wondered if seconds had always lasted that long. 

An abrupt knock on the closed door in front of Amanda brought her back to reality with a jolt. The young doctor greeted both cops jovially, shaking both of their hands before pulling a stool to the desk that held the computer. She quickly looked over the information in front of her as the three women exchanged pleasantries.

Dr. Jones reached to squirt some hand sanitizer on her palm, rubbing in the disinfectant before asking her first question. “What are we—a month out now?” 

Amanda nodded. “Five weeks tomorrow.”

The doctor typed quickly, and then turned back to Amanda before speaking again. “And you told the nurse that you haven’t had a cycle since?”

“I did,” the blonde confirmed slowly, “but I’m honestly not sure. I bled lightly for about a week after, and I know that emergency contraception sometimes induces a period, so I wasn’t sure if it was that, or….” She trailed off.

“Sure, that’s understandable.” Dr. Jones nodded. “So, that plus the nausea and vomiting concerned you. And you have four negative pregnancy tests, all taken the other day? That’s what Olivia said on the phone.”

“Yes, Monday.” The doctor nodded again, typing on the keyboard of her computer, and Amanda continued to speak her thoughts before the doctor could respond. “I know it’s ridiculous for me to come in here and basically demand blood work, but I know it’s more accurate that way.”

“You’re right—it is more accurate. There’s nothing wrong with being careful, Amanda. False negatives do happen, and the morning after pill does have a failure rate. I always recommend checking again. Now, I don’t want you to translate that as me saying that I think you’re pregnant. I just think it wouldn’t hurt to be absolutely sure. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Dr. Jones turned away from the computer in order to give Amanda her full attention. "I know this is something you're worried about, so I'm happy to rush the blood sample the nurse took so we can get results in a few hours. Amanda, we'll take today at your pace, and we'll only go as far as you’re comfortable with. Can I tell you what I'd like to do during our time together--and then you can let me know what you think?” Amanda’s head bobbed slightly. “I'd like to maybe talk some; I know you and I have only met once before, but I think it's important going forward that we have a good rapport. So if there's anything you are needing from me that I'm not already providing you with, I'd like to know. The other thing I'd like to do is an exam. It can be quick, and I'd feel okay with putting off the pap for a few more months if you'd be more comfortable with that, especially in light of your concerns today. I think the priorities for today are one, getting those test results so you can have some peace of mind, and two, making sure you're healing at an expected rate. How are you feeling about all of that?"

Amanda glanced up at Olivia, and the brunette gave her a smile that clearly turned the decision back over to the younger woman. She couldn’t stop thinking about the exam. About how much it hurt and how much she really didn’t have a choice. Not if she wanted justice. Amanda knew—in this moment—she deserved her own compassion. “I don’t want to do the pap smear today.”

“Okay. That’s totally fine.” The doctor typed a reminder for herself to make another appointment at a later date. “Are you okay with doing a quick exam?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Great.” The doctor stood up and searched through a cabinet to her side, producing a drape to hand to Amanda. “I’m going to step out and let you get undressed. We’ll just do waist-down. Take all the time you need. I’ll knock on the door in a few minutes, but if you’re not ready yet, just let me know. Do you want me to take Olivia with me?”

This was a loaded decision. “No, uh, she can stay.”

After she’d left, Olivia turned to Amanda. “What do you want me to do? What would make you feel most comfortable?”

“Um.”

“I can still step out,” Olivia offered, beginning to walk towards the door.

“No, I,” Amanda stammered, “I…I need you to stay. I feel like I’m gonna have a panic attack.”

The older woman immediately rushed to Amanda’s side, providing her with some stability by wrapping an arm around her waist. “Hey. Take some slow breaths. Baby, you don’t have to do this.”

Amanda nodded. “I haven’t looked,” she stuttered haltingly. “Someone needs to look, and it’s not gonna be me.”

"You want to do this?” Olivia checked once more.

“I just need you to stay,” Amanda implored desperately. “Maybe just turn around until I’m sittin’ on the table.”

Olivia’s head bobbed, and she moved to the corner of the exam room, facing the wall until Amanda gave her permission to come back. When she did, the brunette returned to the younger detective and grasped one of Amanda’s hands in hers. She saw that the blonde was staring at her lap. “Hey, look at me for a second?” Olivia gently prompted, waiting for her girlfriend to do as she asked before delicately caressing her cheek with the fingers of her right hand. “I need you to remember that you’re safe. Nothing she is going to do today is going to hurt, and you can ask her to stop at any point. Not that I’ll have to, but I’ll push her away from you if need be. No one is going to hurt you.”

“I know, I just…” Amanda placed her hand over her hammering heart. “My body remembers the last time I was on a table like this.”

After a knock at the door and permission from Amanda, Dr. Jones reentered the room, pulling on gloves. “You doing okay, Amanda?” she asked, noticing her blushed cheeks and sweaty skin.

She nodded quickly, but she knew the lie wouldn’t serve her. “I’m actually kinda nervous.”

“That is totally normal, Amanda. I don’t want you to feel bad about that at all,” the woman assured, hitting the switch that released a pair of stirrups from inside the exam table, before looking up at Amanda, who was still sitting on the edge. “I promise you we will take this at your pace. I will not touch you without your permission. Most of what I’m going to do is look. How are you feeling about that?”

“Better,” she breathed. There was something about hearing the words from Dr. Jones’s mouth that assuaged some of the fear.

“Wonderful. We’ll still go slow,” she promised, sitting down on the stool in front of Amanda. “I’m going to raise you up so that you’re at eye level for me. Olivia, would you grab the pillow that’s tucked in back there?” she asked, gesturing to a white pillow that lied underneath the slightly inclined bed. “Amanda, you can lay your head on that. Do you want me to help you put your feet in the stirrups or do you want to do it on your own?”

“I can do it,” the blonde indicated, laying her head back on the pillow Liv had retrieved for her. 

She felt gentle fingers immediately come to rest in her hair and the hand that was wrapped around hers squeezed rather firmly, but still carefully, in order to ground her. “You’re okay,” the older detective whispered as they made eye contact. “I’m right here.”

“Okay, Amanda, I have two rules,” Dr. Jones announced after a moment. “Number one is breathe. Slow, deep breaths. You might feel the urge to hold your breath, but I need you to fight that. Olivia, I’m going to ask you to help me with that, okay?” Liv gave Amanda a confident smile, lightly scratching at her scalp. “Breathing will help your body stay relaxed. And that’s exactly what rule number two is. I need you to get your knees as far apart as you can get them, and keep them there. If you need me to stop touching you, I don’t want you to try to clamp your thighs together. I want you to tell me, okay?”

Amanda gave a quick nod, not sure if the doctor could see her, before taking a deep breath and separating her knees, closing her eyes.

That wasn’t a good start. “’Manda, I need your eyes to be open for me, okay? Keep your eyes on me,” Olivia stressed. “Just look at me, baby.”

Amanda took another deep breath. “You’re doing great.” It was Dr. Jones’s voice coming from behind the wall of knees and drape. “The first thing I’ll tell you, Amanda, is that you’ve healed incredibly well externally. What I’d like to do—with your permission—is use my fingers to gently separate your labia, just so I can get a better look inside without using a speculum. It’ll be the only time you’ll feel me touch.” 

“Okay,” she answered weakly.

Dr. Jones wheeled the stool to the side in order to make eye contact with Amanda. “Did you say okay?” When the blonde nodded, the doctor wheeled herself back to where she was before, scooting a little closer to her patient. “So, I’m wearing gloves, and I’m going to put my hands on your thighs, and I’m going to move slowly down. You’re doing great. Just keep breathing.”

Amanda had liked Dr. Jones from the moment they’d met several months before, when Olivia was getting her set up with doctors in New York. She clearly cared about her patients, and Amanda especially appreciated that she had gone through a special training in sensitivity towards sexual assault survivors. She hadn’t known it would come in handy, but the detective was glad to have this silver lining. She listened as the doctor told her she would feel her hands come to rest on her outer lips, and consciously took a deep breath when she was informed that she would feel gloved fingers manipulating her labia minora. “This shouldn’t hurt, but tell me if it does.”

The uncomfortable sensation lasted maybe ten seconds, but Amanda could hold back the sigh of relief when it was over, receiving one more hand squeeze and a proud smile from Olivia. “Everything looks great, Amanda. This is exactly what I’d want to be seeing at this point. You can scoot back into a more comfortable position, and I’ll drop these stirrups down.” She did exactly that after removing and tossing her gloves. Liv helped her girlfriend sit up slowly. “Before I let you get dressed, do you have any other questions for me?”

Amanda shrugged. “I just want to know if I’m pregnant.”

“Of course. I’ll call as soon as I have those results, okay?”

Amanda nodded, and thanked Dr. Jones for being so kind. “Of course. You deserve to be treated with care.” 

After some genuine thanks from Olivia (this could have gone so much worse) the women said goodbye to each other. 

After she’d redressed, Olivia suggested that they get some lunch in order to keep Amanda’s mind off of her anxiety. After all, she hadn’t managed to keep breakfast down, and so she was probably hungry.

Once they’d eaten, Amanda nervously picking at a salad, Liv drove them both home, and it was a few minutes later that the younger woman’s phone rang. She gave a panicked look in Olivia’s direction, and the brunette quickly sat her down, wrapping an arm around her for support. “Whatever she says,” Liv softly promised her girlfriend, “I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded, mostly at herself, and picked up the phone, listening silently as the doctor spoke.

"Amanda, hi. It's Dr. Jones. I won't make you wait any longer before I tell you that you're not pregnant. You are also negative for all the infections we tested you for, so all looks good on that front. I also wanted to tell you--and I know this is a lot of information, so stop me if it's too much--that Dr. Wilde and I met each other during medical school, and we do have an arrangement where she will sometimes refer sexual trauma patients to me for follow up if they don't already have a gynecologist. I've, over the years, put together a sort of resource packet for survivors with information about how the vulva heals from trauma, important things to consider when becoming sexually active again, things like that. So if you're interested in any of that, I'm happy to get it to you, or if you would like to meet and talk about it at any point in the future, we can do that too."

Dr. Jones was right. It was a lot. But none of the information was unwelcome. “Yeah, that would be great.”

“Awesome. I’ll send it to you through the patient portal, and you can just let me know if you have any questions.”

“Okay, thank you.” Amanda knew her lack of pregnancy wasn’t due to the doctor’s diligence or her extraordinary bedside manner, but she still felt the need to express gratitude for the news she had just received.

“Of course, Amanda. I hope you and Olivia have a wonderful rest of your afternoon. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Alright, bye, Amanda.”

“Bye.”

Olivia could pretty much assume the nature of the news the gynecologist had given her just by observing Amanda’s micro (and not-so-micro) expressions, but she knew it would be a relief for Amanda to say it out loud. “So?”

“I’m not pregnant,” she breathed.

Olivia nodded. “Oh, good.”

“Is it okay that I’m relieved?” Amanda was still worried that she was hurting Olivia, and the brunette could tell. “Why do I feel bad?”

“Of course it’s okay, love. I promise there’s no reason for you to feel bad about this. I’m not offended, I’m not hurt. I’m happy for you. Okay?”

“But I don’t want you to think—”

Olivia stopped her before she could make herself feel worse. “I don’t think. Okay? I don’t think. I know that you not wanting to carry your attacker’s baby has nothing to do with how you feel about me.”

Amanda reached up to delicately place her hand over Olivia’s cheek. “I’m so happy you were born. You became so important to me so quickly. I never want you to think any part of me resents any part of you.”

Liv smiled, leaning in to rest her forehead against Amanda’s. Olivia often worried about what her genetics said about her. But when she was with Amanda, all that seemed to fade away. The blonde made her better, brought out the best in her. The brunette thought for a moment about kissing Amanda. They had done it a few times over the past few weeks, but Olivia was always very careful when deciding whether or not it was a good idea, and Amanda was growing a little frustrated. She could count the number of times her girlfriend had even pecked her lips in the past month on one hand. This was the next thing she’d have to bring herself to be truthful about. Before she could speak, Amanda’s phone rang again.

“Rollins.”

“Hey. Rollins, it’s Cabot,” the ADA greeted quickly. “Are with Liv?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Is everything okay?”

"Yes, of course. Sorry if I scared you. Can you put the phone on speaker?”

“Sure,” Amanda answered, pressing the speaker phone button. “It’s Alex,” she said to Olivia.

Liv leaned in to make sure her voice was heard. “What’s goin’ on, Alex?”

“So, I’m presenting your case to a grand jury next week, and I’m just pulling together the evidence I have in order to prepare. Amanda, I wanted to ask—how would you feel about testifying before the grand jury in order to secure the indictment?”

“So, I would have to testify twice?” Amanda didn’t know why she said it; she already knew the answer.

She heard Alex take a deep breath on the other end of the call. “Yes. But the trial won’t be for another several months. And with the grand jury, there will be no cross-ex, no judge. Patton won’t be there. I’ll keep my questions brief,” was her final offer. “I could probably get them to indict without you, but I know they’ll return a true bill if they hear from you directly.”

Amanda knew she had to trust Alex. “Okay. When do you want to prep?”

“I’ll reach out first of the week. Does that sound alright?”

“Can Olivia come?” She amended her statement. Amanda knew Olivia couldn’t be there for her testimony to the grand jury. “When you prep me, I mean."

“Absolutely. Of course. We can talk more about the logistics after the weekend. Have you ever testified for an indictment before?”

Amanda shook her head, even though Liv already knew the answer. “Not in New York. But I did plenty in Atlanta.”

Plenty happened in Atlanta.

Plenty happened in New York.

Amanda knew she’d have to get used to both truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Stay safe everyone, and I hope you enjoyed! Reading your reviews will keep me entertained during this time (and writing them will entertain you!) In all honesty, regardless of whether you decide to review, I appreciate your readership and support. Stay safe everyone!  
> -Gabby


	6. Indictment Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.   
> Hope everyone is still safe and healthy! If you were a reader of Something Good, I recently posted a one-shot that exists in that universe. It is called The Rose. Would love to know what you think! I’m always willing to work on one-shots that would be a companion piece to that story, and eventually, maybe even for this story as well. We still have quite a ways to go on this one though!  
> THIS CHAPTER IS INCREDIBLY ANGSTY AND POSSIBLY TRIGGERING. This chapter includes some of Amanda’s testimony at the indictment hearing. It is not nearly as explicit as the trial testimony will be, but I do want to reiterate my usual trigger warning here, especially because earlier in the chapter Amanda also describes a nightmare in detail.   
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Indictment Part 2

A knock on the door signaled Alex's arrival. Amanda hadn’t been back to her own apartment since the assault, opting for Amaro to pack her a bag and drop it off at Olivia’s place. She’d been wearing the same four outfits, but it’s not like she’d gone out much in the past six weeks. With the exception of the appointment with Dr. Jones, the blonde detective had gone outside just once for some sun, but August was not a gentle month, and the heat had felt smothering.

Inside was her safe space. Olivia’s apartment had become the closest thing to home she’d ever experienced. It was like a cocoon, a place for Amanda to patch herself up and grow, far away from the harsh elements of the outside world. No one had entered the one-bedroom except for Olivia, and even she had limited herself to trips to and from the precinct and on rare occasion, the grocery store. When Amanda let the ADA in with a reserved smile, it occurred to her that she was allowing Alex to be the first to penetrate her chrysalis of an abode, only moments before the attorney would ask her to reveal her darkest secrets. The vulnerability of it all was petrifying. How often had Amanda done this to other victims? How many times had she invaded homes where women, men, or children had once felt safe, only to pull the rug out from under them and demand they describe in intimate detail the worst moments of their lives? How many times had she claimed she was there to help, only to essentially force trusting victims to take a hasty trip to the hospital and be continuously poked and prodded at for four plus hours? A hundred times? A thousand? And for what? Only one out of two hundred perpetrators ever see a day behind bars. How often was the pain she caused even worth it?

It was unreconcilable for her.

Amanda had described herself in many ways over the years—stubborn, headstrong, low-maintenance, principled, resilient to a fault. But lately she had begun thinking of herself in a new light.

Hypocrite.

She didn’t want to testify. Nevertheless, she found herself doing it, regretting her decision to not venture to the courthouse with Alex and Olivia. She’d seen a courtroom before; she didn’t need to practice that part. But Amanda had underestimated how uncomfortable she’d be prepping while sitting in her living room. Her cocoon had been burst open by malevolent forces, and she was somehow expected to still feel safe there, unprepared and fully exposed. 

But alas, this was another choice that had been made for her. Her only other option was to allow her attacker the freedom he’d never allowed her. Besides, she knew indictment was easy. A former New York judge hadn’t claimed that most grand juries would be willing to indict a ham sandwich just for shits and giggles—there was truth to the sentiment. Amanda knew if she couldn’t get through answering a few ignorant questions from sixteen or so grand jurors, she definitely couldn’t get through testifying at trial. Though officially a grand jury proceeding is a test for the prosecutor to determine if they have probable cause to charge a defendant with a crime, Amanda faced a test of her own—if she couldn’t handle a jury of random people, could she handle John Buchanan?

“So, now that we're down to the wire with the grand jury, Patton wants to plead out.” Alex had dropped this lovely bomb after a short break from discussing her plans for the hearing. 

“What—what did you offer him?” Amanda was confused by this turn of events. She knew grand juries rarely indicted police officers, and her only saving grace could very well be the fact that she was also a cop. Patton, as a superior officer and a man, still had the upper hand here though. He always did.

Alex scoffed, giving a vigorous shake of her head. “Oh, I didn't. I'm not making a deal with that scumbag. Unless he is willing to allocate to rape one, which is what he did, in open court, I'm taking him to trial and pushing for maximum sentencing. I'm not playing Buchanan's games.”

Olivia, who’d been sitting on the couch next to Amanda, leaned slightly forward in order to address the prosecutor, placing a steadying hand on her girlfriend’s back as she moved. “So,” she said, “if this does go all the way to trial”—she turned to the younger woman—“which I think we all agree is what we want, right baby?” Amanda nodded, offering Olivia an unconvincing smile. What she wanted in this moment was irrelevant. “What is Buchanan planning as far as a defense?”

Amanda sighed, and she semi-unconsciously shrugged away from Olivia’s touch as she also leaned towards Alex. “I mean, is he sayin’ that he just didn't do it? That someone else did? He didn't wear a condom, and it's not like there were ever any other suspects,” she rationalized. 

“I don't know the details yet.” Alex glanced apologetically at Amanda. “I'm sure we'll find out sooner rather than later.”

The youngest of the three women was frustrated. If Buchanan was trying to make a deal, did he think he didn’t have much of a case? Amanda had never known the defense attorney to give up a fight. He must have had a plan—he was just sneakily concealing it from the other side. The detective wondered what degrading story about her the two men were likely coming up with, and all she could think about was the defense strategy every accused rapist who was dumb enough to not use protection fell back on. “He’s gonna say it was consensual.”

This wasn’t the first time Olivia had considered that particular possibility, but hearing the words exit Amanda’s mouth, passively stoic, ignited a fire within her that exploded as she stood up without warning. “And the rock to your head and the neuromuscular blocking agent that could have stopped your breathing—that was consensual too? That's a stretch, even for Buchanan.” She didn’t even believe the words as she decided to say them. It absolutely wasn’t a stretch for Buchanan. Not even a little bit. But uttering the hopeful lie out loud was all she could do the extinguish the flame in her heart that was threatening to engulf her. She’d promised Amanda she wouldn’t yell. She promised her.

“The rumor I heard,” Alex began to admit, keeping her voice soft in hopes that Olivia would be capable of following her lead, “is that he's working a self-defense angle.” 

“Oh, yeah,” a furious Olivia muttered in disbelief, unable to control the venom in her voice, “an incapacitated woman, naked and injured on the ground is really threatening.”

Amanda flinched at the detailed picture her girlfriend had painted, her head beginning to spin. She had indeed been incapacitated, naked, and injured, which means whatever Patton and Buchanan’s angle was, there was information about their plan Alex had intentionally or unintentionally left out. 

Olivia turned to Amanda when she heard an unintelligible whisper. “You promised me,” Amanda repeated tearfully. “You promised you'd try to stay calm, Liv. Please. I can’t do this without you.” 

Alex cleared her throat as Olivia inhaled intentionally, moving to sit back down next to her girlfriend and softly rattling off incoherent apologies. “Like I said, I don’t know the details yet.” It was a weak attempt to placate the brunette. Olivia was known to become this angry during pre-trial proceedings where an absolute stranger was the victim. The seasoned detective always took cases personally. But this was different—it was personal.

Wisely, Amanda decided to change the subject, knowing this conversation wouldn’t lead anywhere productive. First, she laid a hand over Olivia’s thigh, wanting her to know that she wasn’t angry, she was just done with their previous discussion. “I never asked what happened with the Mallory Hankel case.”

The blonde attorney had hoped Amanda wouldn’t bring this up. Her face dropped and her statement bordered on an admission of guilt. “I made a deal with Hankel’s defense attorney. Criminal sex act three.”

The younger detective hardly looked up. “Alex, that’s a class E felony.”

The ADA was more than aware of that. At least it wasn’t a misdemeanor. “It was the only felony Ellis would agree to. He got two years.”

Though Olivia remained silent during the exchange, allowing her fingers to absently play with Amanda’s, the brunette’s girlfriend became animated, a one-eighty spin from her attitude mere seconds earlier. “You couldn’t get second degree?”

Alex knew Amanda would be mad. Not dissimilar to Olivia, the ADA had also witnessed the younger blonde glow on occasion with a burning type of anger Alex hadn’t been familiar with before her time at SVU. But her hands were tied here. Two years was still better than none, right? “Mallory is only three years and ten months younger than Peter Hankel,” she explained. The counselor couldn’t fight the law. “The statute is clear. Ellis would get us with an affirmative defense.”

Amanda pinched the bridge of her nose, attempting to calm herself with a cleansing breath. “He’s her uncle, Alex.” 

The attorney inhaled sharply, gritting her teeth. “I know.” 

Alex often tried to mind her own business. She was always professional and always dedicated to her cases, of course, but if she couldn’t get a warrant or object to Trevor Langan badgering a witness, she decided other people’s problems weren’t for her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t care, but Alex’s claim to fame was in being useful to others. Unable to make Amanda feel better, the ADA just felt awkward. She didn’t want to notice the differences between the way the younger woman reacted to less than great information about Mallory’s case and the way she reacted to similar circumstances regarding her own case. Alex didn’t want to acknowledge that Amanda had been resigned to being smeared in court, yet indignant at the thought that a teenage girl wouldn’t get the justice she deserved. Because if she acknowledged that the woman that Alex had begun to consider a friend was clearly experiencing pain, she’d also have to admit that there wasn’t very much else she could do. She’d also have to admit her own part in the course of events that had unfolded before her six weeks ago.

Alex could hold her own in court, but elsewhere she felt sort of helpless. Could she trust herself with basic decision making anymore? When Amanda hadn’t shown up to testify that day, she could have given her the benefit of the doubt and looked for her, could have called Olivia, could have assumed that the detective needed help. But that’s not what she did. Instead, she’d figured Amanda was being irresponsible and reckless, maybe she’d been gambling, deciding simply to not show up to court. Alex had come to the lazy conclusion that Amanda wasn’t good at her job, and she’d completely ignored the reality of the situation. If the attorney had acted sooner, maybe—

Before Alex could think herself into a nervous breakdown, Amanda spoke again, voicing thoughts that had also weighed heavily on the ADA’s mind. “It's my fault. She won’t even be seventeen when he gets out. God, I can't believe I abandoned that little girl in court.” 

“No.” Olivia’s own attempt at dissent to the claim Amanda had made was swallowed as the other woman immediately forced her opinion. Alex wasn’t new to watching people blame themselves for things that weren’t their fault. It was a phenomenon to be expected with the type of crime she’d chosen to prosecute. But what the woman wasn’t prepared for was having to listen to Amanda blame herself for something that was Alex’s own fault. She couldn’t let it continue, not even for long enough for Liv to work her magic. Amanda needed to know that Peter Hankel’s short prison sentence, the detective having to prove to a jury that she didn’t consent to almost dying at Patton’s hands—Alex was responsible for both things. It definitely felt that way. "If anything, I abandoned you both."

Amanda and Olivia both looked at the attorney skeptically, but it was the younger of them who spoke, giving voice to a confusion both cops shared. “What?”

Alex twitched almost robotically as she rushed the least believable response to a question ever attempted. “Nothing.” She bent down hastily to retrieve her briefcase after pretending to check the time on her phone. “I have a pre-trial motion for another case. Amanda, I’ll give you a time and date as soon as I have one. The court schedule hasn’t been determined for the week yet.” She began moving towards the door before stopping awkwardly in her tracks. “You did great today, by the way. You’re ready. I’ll walk myself out.”

Flinching at the door slam, Amanda took a moment to cringe as she processed the experience she’d just had, squeezing Olivia’s thigh in an effort to ground herself. “What was that?”

The blonde was appreciative of Liv’s soothing hum. “That, my love, was Alex Cabot’s version of vulnerability.” 

Amanda saw her girlfriend’s fingers casually migrate away from their position stroking the back of her hand, and they came to land intentionally on the underside of her wrist. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” the younger woman mused, feeling her pulse beat rhythmically against the light pressure Olivia held on her skin.

“Mhm,” the brunette confessed, her voice markedly less agitated than it had been during the conversation with Alex. “Honestly, sometimes feeling your heart beat is the only thing that can calm my own. When I’m not with you like this, I get so scared. I don’t know where you are, if you’re safe. This is the only way I can know for sure.” Olivia sighed deeply, making the decision to rest her head against Amanda’s chest, allowing the soothing sensation of the steady thump-thump to surround her. Amanda was okay. She was alive, but without the reminder, Liv felt a constant looming threat, a perpetual panic working its way through her non-stop. 

“I can’t imagine how terrified you must have been that day.” Amanda raked her fingers through Olivia’s hair, aware of just how much the older cop needed to be comforted by the warm body of her girlfriend. “I’m here, Liv,” she cooed softly. “I’m alright, I promise.”

Amanda heard an unmistakable sniffle. “I thought I was going to lose you,” came a meek whimper from below her. “I’m sorry I got so angry again. I think I’m just mad at myself.”

“For what, honey?”

“The whole time you were with him, I was just casually hanging out at the precinct drinking coffee, thinking you were testifying. Alex was right, but not about herself. I should have known. I should have acted sooner. I should have done something.”

“How could you have known, Liv?” Amanda gently pushed Olivia’s head off her chest—even though she knew the woman didn’t want to leave—because she needed the brunette to hear her words. “I intentionally kept you in the dark. I made that decision, not you. Baby, I hear you tell partners all the time that there was nothin’ they could have done. There was nothin’ you could have done. And this—it’s not productive, the what-ifs and if-onlys. What happened—happened, and now we have to move forward. We’re sitting together right now, and I’m safe.” 

The older woman sniffed again, moving her own hair out of her face. “I’m supposed to be comforting you, Amanda.”

“Liv, you survived a trauma too. And you’re spending so much time worried about me that you’re not dealin’ with your own pain. This fear that you’re describing, baby, how you always need to be feelin’ my breathing, my heart—that’s a trauma response. You’re livin’ in fight-or-flight, and you’re ignorin’ it because you want it to go away, but it won’t.”

“What should I do?” Olivia looked up at Amanda, watery eyes causing her to look more puny than the blonde had ever seen her. Olivia Benson was the queen of giving advice to people, and it isn’t as if Amanda wasn’t happy to provide her with support, but seeing Liv outwardly act this uncertain and this unsure of herself wasn’t familiar to the younger woman. The brunette had always been more real and more vulnerable with Amanda than she acted in public, but this degree of desperation was new. Wide-eyed with a constant flow of tears taking the path down her face, Amanda Rollins hadn’t ever seen the hard-ass detective seem so childlike, so innocent, and so fragile. 

Amanda attempted to wipe a few tears off of Olivia’s red-hot cheeks. “You gotta start with letting yourself feel it.”

Benson knew she couldn’t afford to let go in the way her girlfriend had just asked her to. She had to be strong because Amanda needed her. Sure, Olivia had been scared the day of Amanda’s attack, but there was no way that what she experienced came even close to what the blonde had felt alone in that warehouse, unable to move, cold, and bleeding. “I have to take care of you, ‘Manda.”

Amanda shook her head. She’d endured visible injuries, and her body had been through something that lab work could indicate, so Olivia was assuming that by nature she’d suffered more, but the blonde was keenly aware of how awful she’d felt any time she got news of shots fired on a scene, how a stabbing pain shot through her chest each time Olivia’s radio signal got interrupted when she pursued a rapist on foot. Those moments for Amanda had only lasted mere seconds, but for Olivia on the day that the blonde had gone missing from the courthouse, the breathlessness and emptiness had gone on for so much longer, and the residual effects remained in the form of invisible scars. The younger woman had been hurt, but she knew Liv must have felt as if a limb had been cut from her. “We need to take care of each other.”

The night before the detective was to testify before the grand jury, she lied awake in bed, staring at the ceiling for several hours. She’d woken up with a jolt from the worst nightmare she’d ever had, and she couldn’t bring herself to fall back to sleep. She also doubted the wisdom of seeking support from Olivia. This wasn’t an ordinary nightmare, and it wasn’t something that Liv would easily be able to comfort her about. Even if she made herself tell Olivia about this dream, it would only make it worse. This wasn’t one of Amanda’s quintessential “I’m protecting Liv” omissions—telling her girlfriend about what happened in her dream would be on a whole different level of cruelty.

Why did this happen? Why was her subconscious always so irrational? As self-hating thoughts overwhelmed her, Amanda didn’t even notice herself begin to cry. It was the gentle shifting of the bed beneath her that brought her back to attention, and then she heard a sleepy voice that would have, in any other context, been the biggest relief she could possibly imagine.

“’Manda?” The blonde turned slightly to address the voice that was trying to quickly wake itself up. “’Manda, baby, you okay?” Olivia murmured, blindly groping at the sheets in the dark to find her girlfriend’s sleepless form. “Are you crying?”

Before she could answer, the older woman’s hand made contact with her shoulder, and as the instinctual jerk away from the touch surprised even Amanda, the visceral movement sucked all traces of sleep from Olivia’s eyes. “Amanda?” 

The brunette immediately moved to turn on her bedside lamp, blinking quickly a few times to speed up the process of her eyes adjusting, but it didn’t take long for her to notice a fresh set of tears cascading down Amanda’s cheeks. She instinctively extended a hand to wipe the droplets of water away, before harshly reminding herself of what had happened the last time she’d gone to comfort Amanda. “Can I touch you?” Liv asked quietly, though she expected to receive an unequivocal “no” in response. 

Amanda’s eyelids clenched shut, and Benson watched as the rate of tears escaping her eyes increased. “Um….”

“Okay. Hey, I won’t.” Amanda hesitantly opened her eyes, rubbing at them, willing reality to fade away. “I’m not going to touch you,‘Manda,” the brunette promised again. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Olivia could barely make out the nod. Amanda always worried about being a burden, so sometimes she wasn’t the most forthcoming with her struggles, but her face was clearly guilt-ridden as she confirmed her girlfriend’s suspicions. Liv had comforted the blonde after a bad dream before, and there was no reason to believe this time was any different. “My love, I need you to remember that it was just a dream. I know it was scary, and we can talk about it, but it’s just you and me here. Just you and me.”

Usually, reminding Amanda of this fact soothed her instantly, so Olivia didn’t know what to think when the fear in her eyes grew in response to her words. “My nightmare wasn’t about Patton, Olivia. If I tell you what happened in the dream, you’re gonna hate me.”

Liv didn’t understand. “What do you mean it wasn’t about—” And then it clicked.

Amanda’s nightmare had been about Olivia. That’s why she’d flinched at her touch, why she wasn’t actively seeking comfort, why she was worried about Liv’s response to the dream.  
Dread. That’s the only word she had to describe the feeling in her body as she sat up in the bed. “What happened in your dream, Amanda?”

Amanda shook her head, and her breathing audibly accelerated. “Liv, I don’t think I can say it out loud.”

The last thing Olivia wanted to do was force Amanda to talk to her about this, especially if she felt like she was in danger, but this was a situation in which Detective Benson couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie. “We have to address it, baby. We have to. I’ll get up and stand in the corner if that feels safer, but ignoring it won’t help, love.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad,” Olivia promised, taking a moment to lower her voice as she wrung her hands together, resisting the urge to gather Amanda up in her arms and never let go. “I’m not mad at all, but I need to know, sweetheart. Take your time and only share what you can, but we can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

Amanda nodded, turning away from Olivia. She wasn’t going to look at her face during this, and she was grateful when her girlfriend didn’t protest it. “So, in the dream, we were havin’ sex. It was completely consensual—at first.” Amanda didn’t know how explicit she should be, but she did know that if this conversation didn’t make Liv decide to leave her, going forward the brunette would need to be aware of some of the details. “You were, uh—you were goin’ down on me. I got a little anxious, so I asked for a break, y’know?” The blonde paused for a moment to suck in some air, but she didn’t wait for Liv to answer. “You, um, you laughed, and you said that you were tired of givin’ me breaks and you were tired of ‘babying’ me, and if I was gonna agree to sex, then I was gonna agree to sex. Then, you held me down. I was so confused, I just kept tellin’ you that I was scared and that it hurt, but you didn’t—you wouldn’t stop.” 

Olivia watched Amanda’s body shake as she sobbed. She had known what Amanda was going to say; the lead up had been fairly obvious, but nothing could have prepared the woman for hearing the words out loud. There was a question Olivia couldn’t force herself not to ask, and since she wouldn’t be able to provide any physical assurance, she needed to get as much information as she could from her girlfriend as quickly as possible. “I know we’re not having sex right now, but is that something you think might happen when we do?”

Amanda stammered out an attempt at an intelligible reply, but she could barely get out two words before the meaning of the statement she was trying to make completely changed. “I can’t imagine, I mean—I know you, and—but I don’t know what to think, and in the dream, I—” 

“Okay, look at me.” Olivia wasn’t sure how to establish and maintain the kind of eye contact she would need in order to get her point across, especially since she wouldn’t even consider touching her girlfriend right now. “Amanda, I need you to look at me.” The longtime SVU detective reminded herself to focus on the task at hand because she knew that if she thought at all about the implications of this nightmare, she would lose it. Eventually, the younger woman rotated around so that she was facing Olivia again. "I would never." Did Amanda really fear her? Had this been going on since before Patton? It wasn’t as if the blonde had experienced a whole slew of healthy and respectful relationships before, and it would make sense if what happened in Atlanta was also affecting her. “’Manda, I need to remind you of something, okay?”

At a weak nod, the older woman continued speaking, ignoring the bile that rose in her throat and the heavy weight crushing her chest. She had to keep it together right now. There would be time for Olivia to process later, but right now, Amanda needed to hear the proof that for some reason was out of reach for her. “I just asked if I could touch you, and you didn’t tell me yes, so my hands are right here next to me. You remember that, sweetheart?”

After Amanda had indicated that yes, she did remember, Olivia resumed her impromptu speech. “Have I ever touched you after you’d asked me not to?” The brunette knew that Amanda’s fear wasn’t logical, but she hoped that a gentle crash course in their memories together would help the panicking woman recall evidence that could refute the uneasiness she was feeling due to the nightmare. At the shake of her head, Olivia nodded, inhaling shakily. “I never have, and I never will. I would die before I’d do anything that even comes close to resembling what happened in your dream.”

Amanda was clearly beginning to calm, and she was so grateful for the flashlight Liv was shining in the dark for her. "I know that. We've been together for eight months, and I've never seen any evidence that would back up my nightmare. I don’t there’s any real significance to it, I’m just freakin’ out because it happened, because I don’t wanna hurt you. I don’t think you would ever, I really don’t. I’m—I'm sorry. With this and testifying—I think I'm finally breakin’ down. I wish I could get over it."

Olivia took a deep breath. She wanted to believe Amanda was being honest in saying she didn’t actually think Liv would hurt her, but the nightmare was about her, and she wasn’t ready to let it go. "The thing about trauma is it demands to be heard. And if you ignore it, it yells louder. You reminded me of that the other day. There’s no way to get over this. You have to go through it. This doesn't have to be a breakdown. It can be a breakthrough. It's been more than six weeks now, love. You have to get it out."

Liv was slightly confounded when a small chuckle escaped Amanda’s throat. "You know, the funny thing is I was just workin' up the nerve to tell you..."

"To tell me what, babe?" It was possible this was a good thing. Amanda wanted to share something with Olivia. Maybe that meant she wasn’t afraid, or at the very least, willing to admit she was.

Amanda laughed once more, considering keeping this piece of information to herself. This definitely wasn’t the best time. But maybe because she was a raw emotional mess, this would be the only time. "I miss being touched by you,” she confessed, wincing at her own words. “I mean, I know you've touched me. But it's all been this high-stakes negotiation—'can I comfort her or will she break?' I miss cuddling up on the couch and watching a movie. You used to walk by me and just randomly run your hand across some area of my body, just to say hello. I miss your kisses and your random little caresses. I miss bein' close and not having to second guess it. I miss havin' sex, which is crazy because I am so clearly not ready, but I think the nightmare was just a manifestation of all of...that. And now that I told you about the dream, you won't touch me. I mean, why would you? You think I'm afraid you're gonna fuckin' rape me. Jesus Christ,” she lamented, shaking her head in disbelief at herself, “every time I open my fuckin’ mouth, I create another mother fuckin' disaster." 

Olivia’s eyes widened at her girlfriend’s choice of words. It wasn’t like Amanda wasn’t known to curse every once in a while—the blonde was a huge fan of a well-placed “fuck”—but multiple times in one statement was unlike her. "Okay. Amanda, I think you're spinning, sweetheart. Let's take some deep breaths. It's normal to have conflicting feelings about all this, and nightmares will happen."

Frustration grew in Amanda’s belly. "I'm not one of your vics, Liv, you don't have to say those things."

Amanda watched guiltily as Olivia flinched at her words. She was still messing this up big-time, but Liv was being nothing but patient. "I'm not saying anything I don't genuinely believe to be true."

"And I'm bein' a jerk to you again."

Olivia shook her head, and she slowly reached her hand out to Amanda, giving her the opportunity to take it, but only if she wanted. The blonde looked down at the bed between them, choosing to ignore the gesture because she knew she no longer deserved Liv’s kindness. The older woman of course didn’t force the issue, but she did speak. "Baby, you just had an awful dream, and you're still coming down from that. Give yourself some space to just be. Thank you for telling me about missing touch in our relationship. I want you to know that I miss it too, and it's definitely a conversation we should make the time to have. But not tonight. You have a long day tomorrow, and it's important that you get some rest. Would you feel more comfortable with me sleeping in the other room?"

Amanda was terrified of being alone, but of course Liv would be worried about staying with her. At her deer in the headlights expression, Olivia chose to reevaluate her plan. "Okay, what can I do—what can I do to help you feel safe?"

"I don't know. I don't know.” Amanda covered her face with both hands, and her crying began anew. “Everything just feels wrong, and I wanna claw off my skin. I don’t wanna be afraid of you. I’m not afraid of you. I need you.” She threw herself unceremoniously into Olivia’s arms. “I want it to stop, Liv. Please make it stop.”

The older detective hesitated to return Amanda’s touch, not knowing how to comfort her without restraining her. She settled for placing both hands on her girlfriend’s head, using her voice primarily instead of touch in order to provide support as the woman cried, reminding her that she was there and she wasn’t going anywhere, that they’d figure it out. 

They always did.

The next morning was in a word, better. The circles underneath Amanda’s eyes were pronounced, and she decided not to cover up the darkened skin with makeup, hoping the grand jurors would be able to see it. 

Olivia walked Amanda up the steps, quickly giving her hand a squeeze as they reached the top. "You're not alone anymore," she reminded gently, relieved to see a small smile in return.

Alex greeted her then, leading her towards the room where she’d testify for the first time, and the attorney quickly reminded her of the questions she was going to be asked. All twenty—twenty? Amanda may have counted wrong—of the grand jurors sat respectfully as the blonde recounted her experiences in Atlanta and then began answering inquiries about the last time Amanda had climbed up the courthouse steps.

The ADA was at her best, encouraging the younger woman to take her time and asking the right questions in a sensible progression. Amanda began to struggle as the conversation arrived at the portion she was most anxious about. 

“So, after he struck you with the rock, Charles Patton injected you with a drug?” Amanda nodded in the affirmative. “Pancuronium bromide, I have in my notes. Can you tell us what this drug does, Detective Rollins?”

“It paralyzes you,” Amanda indicated, taking a deep breath.

“But it’s not an anesthetic, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“So, during this attack, you were awake, just unable to move?” Amanda nodded. “What happened next, Detective?”

“I…” It occurred to Amanda that she hadn’t spent much time considering how she’d word this part. While they were prepping at their apartment, Alex had allowed her to gloss over the details after the detective had promised she knew what to say. The prosecutor had trusted her, and Amanda had every intention of writing herself a script, but with everything that had happened the night before, it had slipped her mind. She thought about just saying the words “he raped me”, but she was too smart to really believe she could get away with that kind of brevity. Been there, done that. “I…” she tried again.

Olivia’s voice from the early morning whispered in her mind.

“Take your time and only share what you can, but we can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

“He said…he said that it was time for me to give him what he was entitled to, what I owed him.” She knew Alex would ask if he’d said anything, so her plan was to start with that part in hopes that she wouldn’t ask if he’d said anything else. “I didn’t willingly give him anything, he just took it. Over the course of probably an hour or so, he raped me with his mouth and with his penis.”

“I’m sorry to ask, Detective, but you’re referring to vaginal penetration only, correct?”

Amanda nodded, before deciding to add her voice to the record on this particular question. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“And you were unable to move or speak for the entire duration of the sexual contact?”

“Yes. My eyes were only open because he opened them.”

After she finished testifying, the attorney seamlessly turned it over to the jurors for questions. Amanda had never met a nicer grand jury. Alex must have set them up perfectly for the detective’s story because not one of them asked if she’d secretly wanted it, or if she was just a slut, or any of the demeaning things she’d assumed would come out of their mouths. 

“Hi, my sweet,” Liv softly greeted after Alex dutifully returned the detective to her girlfriend, who’d been sitting in the lobby, grateful and relieved when Amanda initiated a hug as the brunette met the ADA’s eyes. “How did it go?”

“She did great,” Alex confirmed. “I think they’ll be quick. Hang around for a bit?” she invited.

Olivia deferred to Amanda. “Sure.”

“Great. I’ll come get you guys as soon as I have a verdict.”

“Thanks, Alex.” The prosecutor gave a quick smile and wave before leaving, and Liv turned to the blonde, gesturing for her to sit down next to her. “Hey, my love, how was it?” Olivia tenderly brushed some of Amanda’s hair—which she’d barely combed through that morning—behind her shoulder, and the blonde smiled, comforted by the notion that her girlfriend hadn’t completely sworn off touching her in light of the previous night’s commotion.

“It was okay,” she breathed. “I think they believed me.”

“Good.” When Amanda leaned into the hand that was still brushing through her hair, Olivia let herself lightly caress a delicate cheek. “I want you to know that I believe you too.”

The younger cop’s features scrunched together in skepticism and confusion. “Yeah, I mean, Liv, that kinda goes without sayin’.”

“No, I mean, of course I believe you,” Olivia replied obviously, “but what you said—about not being afraid of me? I was thinking about it, and I believe you. I was sort of freaking out last night myself. I mean—don’t get me wrong—I wanted you to tell me about the dream so we could resolve it, but I did have myself convinced that you were actively terrified of me.”

“That’s not really a leap, babe," Amanda conceded, grateful that Liv hadn’t moved her fingers away from her skin. She’d unknowingly been craving this sort of touch since the night before, and she’d worried it would be months before she’d feel it again. “It makes sense because that’s pretty much what I said. The dream itself was a lot to take in, but you helped me process it all, so I think I’m okay. I’m not suggesting we pretend it never happened. When we create a trigger plan for having sex, it’s gonna be relevant. I know that’s not really top priority right now, but…”

"No, it’s important. We have to talk about things as they come up, sweetheart, and it…came up.”

Something else that had come up, for Amanda specifically, was that it was becoming clearer every day that there was genuinely nothing the blonde could tell her girlfriend that would drive her away. She’d shared with Olivia what she’d assumed would be the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back—she’d told her that there was a part of her subconscious that feared for her safety in her girlfriend’s hands—and the older woman hadn’t left her, hadn’t begged her to stop sharing, hadn’t told her she deserved to feel that way. It was obvious that Liv was in it for the long haul, even if Amanda didn’t always feel deserving of that kind of care. She wouldn’t be able to make the brunette leave if she wanted to, and she definitely didn’t want to.

Amanda laid her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder. How could she have ever believed this woman would cause her harm? As if she could read her mind, Liv pressed a kiss to her hairline. “It’s going to be okay, ‘Manda. We’re going to make it through this. There will be life beyond these hard moments, I promise.”

There was no doubting this kind of love.

When Alex emerged from the courtroom, a satisfied smile on her face, Amanda was reminded that in even the hard moments, there was hope, even in the shadows, there was light. “They returned a true bill. We're going to trial.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was very likely the most intense chapter of this entire story. Things will ebb and flow from here, but the overall trend will be towards the light. Thank you all for sticking with me in the dark moments.   
> -Gabby


	7. Trial Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.   
> Keep staying safe everyone. Let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see in this trial, as this chapter is only part one. (This chapter also marks the halfway part of the story!)  
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Trial Part 1

“Olivia!”

Detective Benson was tidying up around the apartment a couple months later when she heard a distressed call from the kitchen. She found Amanda standing next to the counter, frozen in fear. Before Liv   
could ask her girlfriend what was wrong, she noticed droplets of blood falling onto the tile floor, and it looked like the origin of the dripping red substance was the blonde’s hand.

Olivia took a few more steps towards Amanda. “’Manda, what happened?”

“I’m bleeding.” The flat affect was concerning to the older woman, so she reached to cradle Amanda’s cheek in her hand. “Liv, I’m bleeding,” the blonde repeated, panic rising in her voice. “Oh, God, I’m bleeding.”

“Baby, hey, you’re okay. It’s just a little blood. It looks like you cut your finger. Can I see?”

Amanda lifted her shaky hand and as Olivia glanced down at the injury, she didn’t see the tears that began to fall down the younger cop’s cheeks. Rollins didn’t feel like Liv was truly listening to her, so she tried again, tears escaping from her wide eyes. “Olivia, I’m bleeding.”

The junior detective had been concealing it from everyone, but she had developed a serious fear of her own blood. Her period the previous month should have been reassuring, but instead it sent her flying into a panic attack, and a nick she gave herself while shaving her legs did the same. The experience of bleeding at all reminded her of how powerless she’d felt in the abandoned building Patton had left her in, knowing she was fading in and out of consciousness due to blood loss, and there was nothing she could do about it. When the knife she’d been using hit her finger, the sight of the crimson liquid paralyzed her so quickly, she hadn’t even been capable of holding pressure on the minor incision as she called out to Olivia for help.

The terror she saw in Amanda’s eyes scared Olivia, and she didn’t even think twice before using her bare hand in attempt to stop the flow of blood from the opening in the younger woman’s skin. The blonde whimpered at the painful sensation of the harsh pressure before looking back down at the tiny puddle of blood that was pooling on the floor. She hadn’t felt this way since the moments before Olivia, Nick, and Fin had found her in the warehouse, helpless and afraid for her life. “Liv,” she squeaked. “Help me.”

Olivia hadn’t known about this pattern of tiny injuries causing crippling fear for Amanda, but she’d been enrolled in a crash course that afternoon, having to quickly determine the cause of her girlfriend’s panic. “Hey, look at me,” she implored gently, nudging Amanda’s chin upwards with her free hand in order to get her eyes off the blood dripping from her finger. “You’re okay. I saw it, and it isn’t bad. I’m just going to grab a tissue. These types of cuts can bleed a lot, but it doesn’t mean you’re in danger. I’m right here.”

Amanda allowed Liv to acquire the closest paper product available, some paper towels, and watched in horror as she replaced the pressure of her right hand with the softer white material. “What if I pass out? Will you call 911 if I can’t?” Her voice sounded calmer, but the brunette could tell it was only because Amanda had become embarrassed of her reaction to the less than severe injury. Four months after her assault, Amanda was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Day to day life had become easier, less heavy. She could sometimes go hours without seeing Patton’s face, hearing his voice, feeling his hands. She even experienced some nightmare-free sleeps. Occasionally, however, a reminder of what Amanda had gone through hit her like a truck, and she didn’t like the way it always made her feel. Broken. Each time she perceived her response to an adverse stimulus as an overreaction, she immediately attempted to downplay it, and it was always obvious to Olivia. 

“You’re not going to pass out, love,” the older woman promised softly. “Let’s go sit down so you feel more steady.”

Keeping one hand over the paper towel that covered Amanda’s fingertip, Liv gingerly wrapped the other arm around her waist, leading her to one of their kitchen chairs and helping her sit down, and then she knelt to be at eye level in front of the other woman, brushing some sweaty hair out of her face. “You’re safe, sweetheart,” she swore. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”

“The—the bl—the blood scared me,” she stuttered, beginning to shiver, “and I’m c—cold.”

“I know, baby,” Olivia acknowledged, using her free hand to rub warmth into one of Amanda’s arms. “You’re cold because you’re sweating. You only lost a little blood. I looked at it, and it isn’t serious, okay?”

“Am I gonna n—need stiches?” she inquired, her uninjured hand moving subconsciously to brush against her hairline.

“I don’t think so, but I do want to look at it again in a few minutes.” Liv reached up to gently pull Amanda’s hand away from her temple. “Stay here with me,” she reminded. “You’re safe, ‘Manda.”

“I’m sorry,” the blonde shuddered.

“Shhh,” Olivia soothed, rubbing circles into the back of her girlfriend’s hand. “Just breathe for me. There you go. You’re okay, love. Listen,” she sighed, giving Amanda a soft smile, “I want to go grab the first-aid kit. Do you think you can hold this pressure for me while I do that?”

Not only did the older woman need Amanda to help slow the bleeding from her finger, she also wanted to keep her free hand busy, knowing that preoccupied with the idea of needing stiches, she might start thinking about when she last received stiches, and Liv thought being productive and having power in the process of caring for this injury could maybe help her relax. The blonde gave a weak nod, placing the fingers of her right hand next to Olivia’s. “I’m going to go. You got it?”

“I got it,” Amanda croaked.

At Amanda’s confirmation, Liv stood up, and then placing one hand on the back of the blonde’s head, she brought her lips in to caress her hairline. “I’ll be right back,” Olivia vowed.

When she returned, the brunette once again knelt down in front of the chair, placing the first -aid kit next to her. “We’re going to take the paper towel away now, love, okay?”

“Liv, you’re gonna pull the scab off,” she protested, shaking her head. “We can’t.”

“If the bleeding hasn’t stopped yet, I’ll put it back, babe, I promise, but we have to see if you need medical attention.”

“I don’t wanna go to the hospital,” Amanda protested, “and like you said, it’s not serious. I just got scared.” The blonde didn’t like the lighting in the hospital, and she didn’t like the way it smelled. She didn’t like the way every nurse reminded you to get some rest even though they knocked on the door of your room every four hours to check your kidney function, effectively waking you up. She didn’t like how you had to sign consent forms for everything when the last thing you want when you’re already injured is for anyone to do anything to you at any time. 

“I still have to look, sweetheart,” she insisted, letting a hand rest on one of Amanda’s thighs, squeezing lightly.

“Okay,” Amanda conceded, slowly pulling her hand away from the finger that had been bleeding. “Is it bad?” she questioned hastily.

“I can’t see it yet, love. Let’s move the paper towel. Can I take it?” Olivia waited for a hesitant nod before pulling the paper towel completely away and discarding it on the floor next to her. “I think the bleeding’s stopped,” she announced softly. “I’m going to clean it with some alcohol, that way I can see how deep the cut is too.” Not getting a response as she rummaged through the kit next to her, Olivia looked up. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, um, it kinda hurts a lot, so if I cringe or yelp, that’s why,” she preemptively explained.

Olivia nodded, offering her girlfriend a comforting smile. “I’m going to be gentle, but let me know if you need a break. Can you tell me how this happened?” She figured keeping Amanda talking would be at least a small distraction from the sting of the alcohol swab.

“I was tryin’ to cut tomatoes, and I guess the knife slipped.”

Olivia looked up in response to a small whimper. “Is that all?”

Amanda deadpanned. “I think there’s DNA evidence in our salad.”

After placing some Neosporin on the small cut, Olivia gingerly wrapped a band aid around Amanda’s finger before pecking it gently with her lips. “How do you feel now?” She stood up, gathering the garbage she’d produced.

“I feel like we need to throw out that salad.”

Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose, realizing that Amanda clearly didn’t want to talk about what had happened. Sometimes it made more sense to let things go. At least now the brunette was aware that blood was a thing for her girlfriend. “I see you’re coming down from the adrenaline rush,” she observed, walking towards the counter and retrieving the half-made bowl of vegetables. “I don’t see any blood.”

“Well, if you’d like, I can get CSU out here with some luminol,” she offered, a sarcastic smirk on her lips.

“No,” Olivia responded with a small smile, “that’s not necessary. I believe you.” She pitched the greens into the trash can before placing the bowl in the dishwasher and washing her hands. “How do you really feel?” she chanced, finishing her efforts to clean up the kitchen.

“Tired,” Amanda admitted with a small sigh. “I didn’t expect any drama today.”

“Hmm,” Olivia mused, placing her hands on her hips. “Hey, what do you think about cuddling up on the couch and watching a stupid movie?”

“Can we watch a stupid cop show?”

“Absolutely.” Olivia smiled at her girlfriend, grabbing her hand and leading her into the living room. “You pick.”

Before long, Amanda was practically sitting on Olivia’s lap, a blanket covering them both. This is exactly what the younger woman needed right now. The blonde quickly turned on Netflix before scrolling   
knowingly through their “continue watching” section, quickly making a selection as Olivia chuckled softly.

After only a few minutes, Amanda rolled her eyes. “That lawyer is testifying, and the defense isn’t even gonna object.” 

“He's got a point though.”

“They always do, doesn’t make it right.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “You okay, counselor?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Amanda huffed, ignoring her girlfriend’s obvious jab, “it just makes me mad when they put inaccurate shit on TV. Now he’s leading the witness—and nothing!”

“We have to sue them. I’ll call Alex. God knows she doesn’t have enough of a caseload.” Olivia delighted in Amanda’s laugh, a sound that was hard to come by these days. “Do you have a career goal you never told me about, ‘Manda?”

The blonde just shrugged. “Like I said, I just don’t like inaccurate shit on television.”

Olivia smoothed her hand over Amanda’s hair. “You watch these shows purposefully to call out the errors,” she accused lightly, smiling widely at her girlfriend’s sad attempt to hide a smirk. “How's your finger feel?”

“It…has a heartbeat,” she described, referring to a constant throb in the digit. “Here, feel.” Amanda knew Olivia always appreciated the opportunity to feel the thumping of her pulse, so she reached her hand out for Liv to do what she wished. 

The older detective decided to press her lips to the band aid covering the tip of Amanda’s forefinger, the sounds of an attorney on the television attempting to question a hostile witness fading away into the background. “I’m sorry you got hurt,” the brunette whispered against her girlfriend’s broken skin. 

Amanda chewed on her bottom lip, embarrassed. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“No need to apologize for that, sweetness. No need,” she reassured, massaging her fingers into Amanda’s scalp, smiling softly when the blonde hummed in response. “I know you’re tired. Let’s just snuggle and relax, okay?”

The younger woman rested her head against her girlfriend’s, reaching for the remote in order to rewind the unethical bullshit unfolding on the screen in front of them. “If this doesn’t end up being a mistrial, I swear to God, Olivia…”

“The defense can always appeal,” Liv reminded, nuzzling her nose into Amanda’s neck. “My sweet, sweet nerd.”

A few weeks later, the courtroom scene jumped out of their television as Alex prepped Amanda for her trial testimony. The detective had elected to make the trip to the courthouse this time, knowing she’d be responding to much more specific and much more detailed inquiries, and she decided that she didn’t want that memory to have taken place in her own home. She waited for Liv to leave on a bathroom break before she asked Alex to go through the most disturbing questions she’d have to answer. God knows Olivia only needed to hear those once. The ADA understood and quickly went through a few more minutes of practice testimony, deciding they were ready for direct examination when the brunette returned.

Alex wanted to spend most of their time that day preparing for Buchanan’s cross examination. Though the attorney couldn’t be sure exactly where the defense lawyer would go with his questioning, the woman was beginning to learn more about his strategy, and it’s not like the man’s arguments were often unpredictable. 

She consented. She regretted it. She accused my client.

Generally, it was as simple as that. Alex knew how to destroy “he said/she said” arguments and so did Amanda, but she’d never done it regarding her own assault, so preparation was paramount here. 

“Do you think Buchanan will call me?” Amanda desperately did not want to testify twice (or three times if she included her testimony to the best grand jury that had ever served the state of New York).

The ADA shook her head. “I don't.”

The younger detective anxiously ran her hands back and forth over the wooden court bench. “Then who does he have as far as witnesses?”

Alex sighed. She really shouldn’t give out this information to her complaining witness, lest she be caught, but due to the nature of their friendship, she felt as if she owed her something. “I believe Captain Sam Reynolds will speak as a character witness. I'm hoping Patton will testify, so I can get him in cross.”

Even Amanda’s old direct supervisor would be taking the stand to support Patton. She wondered if the man genuinely thought the Deputy Chief was innocent, or if this was just out of some kind of blind loyalty. She wouldn’t even be able to find out. “I hate that most of the trial is gonna happen without me there.” 

Olivia stood up from the chair she was sitting in, the one Alex would occupy over the course of the trial. She approached Amanda on the stand, resting her hand over one of her girlfriend’s. “I'm not a witness, so I'll be able to sit in the gallery, and I'll update you everyday.”

Alex fought the small smirk that began to form on her lips as she looked through her case notes. “I'll pretend I didn't hear that.”

Liv realized for the first time that if she watched the proceedings while Amanda couldn’t, then they’d be apart for the duration of the trial, at least during the day. “I don't have to go all the time if you'd rather me be with you.” 

Amanda shook her head, pulling her fidgety hand away from the brunette’s in favor of scratching at her head. “It’s okay, Liv. I'll have work to keep me busy. Those rapists aren't gonna catch themselves.” The blonde was also incredibly aware that Olivia needed an outlet for her anger and more importantly, she needed her own form of closure. “Besides, I know being there during this process will be healing for you.”

Liv nodded. “I know you just went back to work, but do you think it might be a good idea to take some time off during the trial?”

Taking a deep breath, the youngest of the women shook her head in the negative. “If I can't do my job right now, I have no business being in the field at all.” 

On the first day of the trial, November 17th, Judge Karyn Blake began the proceedings, and then she invited both attorneys to make their opening statements. Olivia found herself nodding in response to the words Alex was saying, and she felt so grateful that the blonde prosecutor was the ADA currently representing their team. The detective had enjoyed working with multiple ADAs over her years in Special Victims, but it was no secret that Alex had the highest conviction rate of them all. After Buchanan’s opening remarks, which Liv found to be lackluster, Judge Blake asked Alex to call her first witness.

“The people call Doctor Allison Wilde to the stand.”

Olivia wished she could be with Amanda, wished the blonde could be there to see how many people were in the gallery supporting her—Nick, ME Warner, even some survivors that the young detective had worked with in the past eighteen months. Fin was at the station with Amanda that day, but he planned on trading out with Amaro sometimes so that he could also be there in a supportive capacity, mostly for Liv. 

The cop turned her attention to the attorney and the doctor. It almost felt like a knock knock joke—a cop, an attorney, and a doctor walk into a courtroom…. But this was not funny at all. Nothing in all of Olivia’s life had ever felt so disgustingly real. She was at the rape trial of her best friend, the woman she’d be proud to call her wife one day. Amanda was going to be torn apart in the next few days, and unless he chose otherwise, Patton would just get to sit and watch. 

Look at him, the brunette thought. Sitting there all comfortable-like. Did he know what it felt like to have his lungs and diaphragm weakened to the point of respiratory distress? Did he know what it felt like to be unable to defend himself, physically or verbally? Did it even occur to him that he was violating a human being, or was Amanda simply a toy to him, just an empty vessel for his pleasure and his power?

After a quick introduction to the jury, Alex cleared her throat, taking a small sip of water and a cleansing breath. “Can you tell us why your testimony is relevant in this case, Doctor?”

Dr. Wilde nodded. “I am a board-certified ER physician at Mercy General Hospital, and I have years of experience treating sexual assault victims.” When Alex had reached out to the physician in advance of Patton’s indictment proceeding, she had been more than happy to assist in this process as both Amanda’s doctor and an expert on the injuries she’s sustained.

Alex nodded, pacing by her desk. “You were the Emergency Room attending physician on the day Detective Rollins was admitted to your hospital, yes?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Can you describe the detective’s injuries for the court please?”

Dr. Wilde sat up taller, leaning into her microphone. “Of course. Detective Rollins was brought in by EMS suffering traumatic blood loss caused by a laceration on her forehead and significant vaginal tearing. She was exhibiting symptoms of hypovolemic shock, and her entire body was paralyzed due to a neuromuscular blocking agent called pancuronium bromide. Her condition was serious, and a blood transfusion was required in order to stabilize her.”

Olivia glanced at Buchanan, watching the defense attorney take some notes to prepare for his cross. What would he challenge the doctor on? Her board certification? The definition of “significant”? Alex’s voice brought her back to the current examination. “To clarify for us, what are the symptoms of hypovolemic shock?”

“Rapid, shallow breathing. Weak, accelerated heart rate. Pale, clammy skin. Dangerously low blood pressure. All of these things are an attempt to adapt to the loss of blood. It’s essentially the body shutting down.”

“You mentioned a drug—” Alex glanced down at the paper on her desk for show; she remembered the name of the drug Patton had used with painful acuity. “—pancuronium bromide. Can you please share with us the effects of this drug?”

Dr. Wilde’s head bobbed again. “Pancuronium is an aminosteroid muscle relaxant that completely paralyzes the patient but does not have anesthetic properties. Used in a non-medical setting, it is incredibly dangerous and often lethal, due to how a high enough dose paralyzes the organs essential to breathing. Exacerbated by the shock, the drug caused Detective Rollins’s symptoms to be particularly dangerous.”

Alex nodded as she spoke. “Could these symptoms have been fatal, Doctor?”

“There’s no do doubt in my mind about that.” Dr. Wilde once again leaned towards her microphone, making eye contact with a few members of the jury. “Yes.”

Because the effects of pancuronium had been established, Alex pivoted, turning her attention to the matter at hand. “Now, Dr. Wilde, based on your expert understanding, is it at all possible that Detective Rollins was capable of consenting to sex while under the influence of this drug?”

“Absolutely not.”

The prosecutor and the doctor continued in a quick back-and-forth, something they’d practiced during trial preparations. “Was she capable of saying no?”

“Not a chance.”

“Was she capable of physically fighting off an attacker?”

“Ms. Cabot, she was barely capable of breathing.”

A tight smile played on the ADA’s lips, and gratitude filled her heart. This testimony had gone swimmingly. “I have nothing further. Thank you, Dr. Wilde.” She gave a long look to Buchanan as the two lawyers switched places.

Olivia always thought Alex’s pacing was somewhat endearing, her way of engaging with a witness and the jurors at the same time. But the way Buchanan walked, it was as if he was stalking his prey. She had to hand it to the physician—she didn’t even blink. “Dr. Wilde, have you ever seen a patient present with vaginal tearing after consensual sexual contact?”

The doctor opened her mouth to speak. “Yes, but—"

“So, in your expert opinion and experience, it’s possible?” Buchanan was skilled in forcing black-and-white answers, which the doctor had been made aware of, but she was also aware that medicine wasn’t always that clear cut. Sometimes it was more of an art than a science. Everybody was different because every body was different.

“Of course it’s possible, but—"

Buchanan interrupted her again. “Dr. Wilde, is there a way, medically speaking, to prove the order in which a series of injuries occurred?”

“Well, depending on the nature of the injuries—”

A third time. “So, no.”

Alex paused her writing to stand up behind her desk. “Objection. Is he going to let the witness answer or is he going to continue testifying?” Judge Blake immediately sustained the objection, and Buchanan took a deep breath.

“Okay, let’s get more specific,” the defense attorney agreed, harboring a tone and returning to his notes. “It is your testimony that Amanda Rollins arrived at your ER with vaginal tearing, a laceration on her forehead, and pancuronium bromide in her system, correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Do you know, beyond any reasonable doubt, which of those injuries happened first, second, and third?”

Dr. Wilde hesitated for a moment. She wasn’t going to lie on the stand, but she didn’t want to make this issue simpler than it was. “No.”

Buchanan beamed with excessive haughtiness. “So, it is true that she could have consented to sexual contact prior to the injection of the drug? I mean, there’s no way to prove the injection happened before the vaginal tearing, right? And you did just tell me that vaginal tearing can result from consensual sex.” 

Dr. Wilde’s brow furrowed, tired of this incompetent bully’s antics. “Counselor, consensual cannibalism is technically possible, but that doesn't mean I'd feel comfortable testifying that a patient with chunks of flesh missing wanted to be eaten.”

Olivia enjoyed the pained expression on Buchanan’s face. “That’s all I have for this witness.”

The ADA smiled slyly at the doctor’s words, hoping no one would notice. She certainly hadn’t instructed her witness to say that. When the judge looked at her, Alex had no reason to request a redirect examination. “Nothing further.”

The next morning, Alex left the courtroom in order to find her star witness, and her attention was garnered by Olivia standing up and waving her over. “Hey, where’s Amanda? I’m ready for her.”

Liv shrugged. “She went to the bathroom a little while ago, but I thought she was heading to you after.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “I haven’t seen her.”

Not again. “I’m going to check the bathroom.”

Olivia was relieved at first to find her girlfriend seemingly unharmed, bracing herself against the sink, cheeks flushed red and damp with tears. Before she could say anything, the door opened to reveal juror number five, making Amanda look up. The brunette flashed her badge at the woman. “This bathroom is closed,” she lied. “There’s another in the front lobby.”

Once she’d left, Amanda chuckled harshly without humor. “Thanks for that, Liv. The last thing I need is for a member of the jury to see me right now.”

“No worries,” Olivia said slowly, taking a step forward after locking the bathroom door from the inside. “What’s going on, love?”

"I don't think I can do this,” Amanda faltered, her eyes watering again. “I—I can’t. I never imagined how impossible this would feel. I can’t tell the jury what he did to me—and you, and Alex, and Fin, and Amaro, and Melinda. All those survivors. The court reporter. I just…can’t."

Liv should have seen this coming. “Yes, you can.” She approached Amanda, comforted by the fact that the woman seemed to want her reassurance and steadying touch. “Yes, you can, ‘Manda. You are stronger than you’ll ever know.” The brunette had been a direct witness to this for the past five months, and she’d be damned if she was going to let Amanda believe it wasn’t true.

The younger woman shook her head, frantically wiping tears from her face. They might help to persuade the jury, but Amanda wasn’t going to deliberately wound her pride by crying in open court. "But he's gonna be there, Liv, and he's gonna be looking at me."

"Then you just look at me. Okay?” Olivia’s eyes softened, and Amanda felt for a heavenly moment like they were the only two in the world—just her and Liv, and things were okay. “The whole time you're testifying, just look at me. You don’t have to look at him ever again. Just look at me whenever you need support, and I’ll be sending you all the love and all the strength in the world.”

“Looking at you might be hard though, especially when I say things you haven’t heard before.”

The brunette nodded, knowing the next few hours would be hard for her also. “Then look at Alex and answer her questions, but know that I’ll never make you discuss the details outside of that courtroom.   
You’re always welcome to share with me if something comes up for you, but you never have to force yourself to tell me more than you’re comfortable with. We never have to bring up the things you say to the jury again if you don’t want to. It’s your story to tell, it doesn’t belong to me,” she declared.

At this point, Amanda was just letting herself go through any and all reasons she didn’t want to testify, trusting that her girlfriend would lovingly shoot down them all. “I’m also afraid that if thinking about my testimony gives me anxiety in the next few days, I’m not gonna want to tell you about it. I’ve worked so hard to be able to talk to you.”

Liv appreciated that the blonde was concerned about her ability to confide in her, but she felt absolutely no entitlement to the nitty gritty of Amanda’s experience. “All you have to tell me is that you’re struggling. That’s all I need to hear to provide you with comfort. I don’t need the details.”

Amanda had to mention one more thing. “I’m so scared. What if he doesn’t get convicted and this was all for nothing?”

This was a fear Olivia couldn’t make go away. She couldn’t assure Amanda that justice would be served. It just didn’t work that way. “Hey, Alex has a very strong case. But either way, we both know this is never for nothing. Take back your power, love. You can do this. I believe in you.”

Amanda quickly wiped away the last of her tears, taking a deep breath. “You always have.”

“And I always will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you all for following me through the first half of this story. I so appreciate your words of encouragement. What has meant the most to me with both of my SVU stories is survivors reaching out to me to tell me my writing was somehow healing to them. Nothing could bring me more fulfillment. Thank you to absolutely everyone who’s reviewed, subscribed, given kudos, and read. I always welcome your thoughts. Please stay safe.  
> -Gabby


	8. Trial Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is faceinbud.  
> I'm realizing that there are a whole bunch of typos in this story (ex. allocate instead of allocute—pretty sure it autocorrected). I hope those aren't too distracting for you guys! I think there are likely a few in this chapter that I will discover as I read through it again. Sorry about that!  
> Without further ado, here is Trial Part 2. Extra trigger warning for Amanda's testimony and the use of one homophobic slur.  
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

"The prosecution calls Detective Amanda Rollins."

Amanda had been in that room before, the one in which she'd asked dozens of victims to wait in the moments prior to their trial testimony. The detective had seen those plain white walls, sat on the plain wooden bench, waited for the door to be opened, being told it was time.

She'd been in the witness room before, but not like this.

The color was dilute, sharp lines were blurry, and the tap, tap, tap of her shoe against the tile floor was maddening. Still, somehow, she couldn't force herself to stop. The sound was her only companion in the otherwise deafening silence of solitude. She was alone in this room, as she'd been before.

But not like this.  
Amanda craved Olivia's presence like she craved air to breathe, like she craved a light in the darkness, like she craved hope. In that moment, if someone—anyone—would have proposed a deal of Patton's freedom in exchange for the chance to go home right that instant and curl up in Liv's arms, she would have agreed in a second. In a second.  
But no such offer was made. Because before Amanda could bring herself to just get up and leave, she was told the court was ready for her. When had she done this last? Who had she testified on behalf of the last time she was led out of this room and onto the witness stand? Was it a man? A woman? A child? Had the perp been convicted? Had her testimony meant anything at all? The blonde couldn't remember, and she found herself thinking about being at the beach. Yes, the sound currently reverberating inside her head was akin to what she heard on the beach as she held a seashell to her ear. She wished, at the very least, this was a pleasant memory. But she didn't have very many good memories of her childhood, the peaceful day on the beach being ruined by a fight between her parents. She remembered distracting Kim from the shouting by assisting her in building a sandcastle, something that had angered her father when he found out the two girls were playing close to the ocean. But there was nowhere else to go that was out of earshot of the fight. She always got in trouble when she tried to help Kim.

Amanda found herself being sworn in, being asked to place her hand on the Bible in front of her. This was how testifying in court always happened, but it felt so different. Was it cold in the courtroom?

"Please state your name for the record."

Alex's voice. This probably would have been a good time for Amanda to reenter her body, but she didn't want to. In the few minutes before Jim Rollins noticed the girls were gone, Kim had been happy, her laughter filling the salty air as the children took turns listening to the ocean through a seashell. For those precious moments, the girl had been able to take her little sister away from a lifetime full of violence, and she had felt hope. Amanda's first child victim. If only she'd been able to protect Kim for longer.

"Detective Rollins." The ADA's voice was low, measured, and Amanda didn't want to ruin her case like this, but she couldn't open her mouth, the idea of hearing her own voice becoming like nails on a chalkboard, and she struggled not to cringe obviously. Patton was watching her. She knew it, and so she kept her eyes locked on her own hands, which were fidgeting aimlessly in front of her.

The sound of Alex addressing her in court was nearly as menacing as Daddy's had been as he came bounding over the sandy hill to find them, his breath smelling of the beer he'd been imbibing. "Mandy Jo, what do you think you're doin'?"

"Detective Rollins."

Suddenly, the air around her became crisp and her vision cleared, the salty sea and crashing waves giving way to the sterile environment of a trial courtroom. She was no longer on the beach, and she was no longer alone. "Sorry." Her head snapped upwards and her eyes met Olivia's. The brunette had placed herself directly in front of Amanda; all she had to do in order to see her was look up. Her girlfriend gave her a small nod and a soft smile, a gentle reminder of the words she'd spoken only minutes before.

"I believe in you."

"Detective 3rd Grade Amanda Rollins."  
Alex was clearly relieved to hear the detective croak, but Amanda knew she was worried about where the testimony would go from here if she could barely begin to speak. The younger woman attempted to give her a reassuring smile, something that Alex would translate as meaning that she was back, and she was ready to do her part. "Detective Rollins, how did you come to know the defendant?"

And so it began. This wasn't the first time the detective had told this story, and she knew it likely wouldn't be the last, but she hoped she'd never again have to do it in such a public way.

Don't look at Patton. Just don't look at him.

Talking about her time with APD's Special Victims Unit wasn't as difficult as she'd predicted, something she was grateful for. It went by pretty quickly, and Amanda could tell the ADA wanted to spend most of their time discussing what had happened in New York.

"So, when did you hear from him next?" Alex leaned against the railing separating the jury from the rest of the courtroom.

"On the day of the incident, I received a text from him while I was climbing the steps to this building. I was supposed to be testifying in another case."  
Mallory. Only a child, and she'd been deprived of her day in court because of Patton. Another victim, casted aside and forgotten by the system. Both blonde women needed to get the teenager out of their minds for the time being. "What did the text say?"

"He said he was in New York, that he was watching me, and he wasn't leaving until I gave him what I owed him."

"And what did you infer he meant by that?"

Amanda watched as the attorney walked slowly towards her, being sure to maintain appropriate distance, wanting each member of the jury to a have a good view of the witness. Alex stepped further to the left than she generally would, but she didn't want to block Olivia's view of her girlfriend. The prosecutor wasn't stupid; she was highly aware that at some points during this examination, the brunette would be Amanda's only tether to reality. "I knew he was talkin' about sex. He'd been mad when he left the hotel in Atlanta. It made sense that he was still angry about me sayin' no."

"Did the text say anything else?"

"Yes." Amanda nodded, and as her thoughts wandered to her girlfriend, so did her eyes. She wished she could get off the witness stand and go be with Olivia, she wished she could just sit in the gallery and watch. That's what Patton was doing, sitting calmly next to Buchanan with no other responsibilities. Why did it feel like Amanda herself was on trial? "Patton said that I had two choices. I could meet him at an abandoned warehouse, which he provided the address to, or he would find Olivia, and he would force…." The woman took a deep breath. "He said he would force her to—"

"Take your time, Detective." Alex's voice brought her back to the present moment. She had people on her side. She wasn't alone. All she had to do was keep talking.

"He said he would rape her, and he'd kill her after if he was feeling merciful. I didn't really feel like I had a choice. He told me I had to delete the texts, so I did, but first I saved the address in my email drafts. I turned off my phone and threw it away, hoping the squad would find it."

"What did you do next?"

"I hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address. It was a pretty quick drive. I entered the building, and I walked a pretty long way. I wasn't close to the entrance anymore. All of a sudden, I felt a sharp pain in the side of my head." Amanda reached up with her right hand, subconsciously rubbing the area as she'd done dozens of times before. "When I fell to the ground, I saw blood. I was disoriented, but I knew Patton was there. I smelled his cologne. He climbed on top of me immediately, and he restrained me while he plunged a needle into my neck. He said, 'this time, I'm not takin' no for answer.'"

"Now, we've heard testimony that the drug you were given was a paralytic, one that can significantly affect someone's ability to breathe. How do you explain that not being a problem for you?"

"I did feel short of breath," Amanda admitted, "but the dose I was given was so low that involuntary muscle movement remained mostly intact. I was just really weak."

"And who told you that?"

"Dr. Wilde."

Alex nodded. "Dr. Wilde, who we heard testimony from yesterday. So, you'd been hit with a rock, drugged, and paralyzed. What happened next?"

"It took a few minutes for the drug to take effect, but because of the rock, I was really disoriented, and I couldn't get up. Once I couldn't move, he opened my eyes. He blinked them for me every few minutes so that they wouldn't dry out. I guess he wanted me to see him. He stood at my feet, and he touched himself. When he finished, he took off my clothes. There was…evidence on them. I remember immediately being so cold."

Amanda crossed her arms, trying to rub warmth into the prickly flesh. The ADA looked at her during the pause, and she offered a small nod to encourage her to continue. "He wasn't becoming erect again, so he decided to use his mouth." A sharp inhale. "'You lesbians like this shit, don't you?' That's what he said."

Alex's brow furrowed as she took one step further towards her witness. "Then what happened?"

It was a good strategy, not giving Amanda—or the jury—a break during the testimony. Alex wanted the jury to become overwhelmed, wanted them to feel disconcerted, wanted them to struggle not to beg for a break from the onslaught of disturbing information, knowing they wouldn't get one. An effective rape testimony always made jurors squirm in their seats. It was a small dose of empathy that would never leave them. Alex hated doing it, but this was exactly the point. It was the only way.

"After he was done, he was getting hard again, so he climbed on top of me."

Amanda met watery brown eyes as they gazed through her. She shook her head in Olivia's direction, feeling again like an impossible task was being laid out before her. "I…" One more moment of meaningful eye contact with Olivia.

"It's okay." The smallest of soundless lip movements gave her permission to continue. Amanda quickly glanced at Judge Blake, and she thankfully had not noticed the off the record communication between the two detectives.

"I remember the way he spread my legs."

One second at a time.

One word at a time.  
"I couldn't move, so obviously I wasn't fighting him, but every single touch was rough, forceful."

Once again, the ADA leaned her body against her own desk, allowing it to give her support. This was Amanda's story, and she wanted to let her tell it in the way that made the most sense for her, but the jury needed to hear the magic words. "Tell the jury what happened next, Detective."

Just three little words, Amanda told herself. All she needed to do was separate her consciousness from their meaning. Just say the words. "He raped me." The blonde took a cleansing breath, nodding her head as she chewed on her bottom lip. "Three times."

The attorney approached her witness once more. "What happened after that?" she asked slowly.

"He sat next to me, and he just watched. He let me bleed. I was freezing, in pain. He just watched." Amanda sniffed, wiping a tear. A part of her was grateful this part was almost over, but she knew Buchanan's cross was going to be brutal. He wouldn't look at her with sympathetic eyes the way Alex was. He wouldn't offer her encouraging smiles or give her time to process before responding. His job was to make her look as noncredible as possible. And Amanda was worried he would succeed.

"Did he say anything to you—while he watched?"

"He said one thing, right before he closed my eyes and left." Amanda wished she would have lied and said no. This was the thing she most dreaded saying aloud, the thing she least wanted Olivia to hear.

"And what was that, Detective?"

She clenched her eyelids shut, desperately willing the tears to refrain from falling. She didn't want to make eye contact with her girlfriend as she spoke, but Alex's meaningful stare was uncomfortable too. Speaking directly to the jury didn't feel appropriate either, and so Amanda shifted her gaze to the right, and for the first time in five months, her eyes met Patton's. Her breath caught in her throat at her old boss's sly smile, but she resisted the shudder that threatened to rip through her. Patton was behind the defense table, and in order to get to her, he'd have to go through the court officers, Alex, Olivia, Amaro, Fin, and—Munch? When did he get there?—Amanda knew, in the physical sense, she was safe.

But his eyes were deeply violating. The way he gave her a once over as she hesitated. The way he smiled at her anxious stutter. Amanda knew that if given the chance, Deputy Chief Patton would brutalize her all over again. Maybe this time he'd have enough sense to finish the job.

"Detective?" Alex's voice again, softer than before. Amanda saw her hand come to rest on the railing in front of her. Generally, attorneys were not supposed to approach the witness stand without express permission from the judge, but it didn't look like Blake was going to call Alex out for the shift in position. The hand entering her line of sight is what rescued Amanda from Patton's incessant stare. "What did he say to you?"

No way was Amanda ever going to forget those words. "I have to say," she recited her attacker's words, exaggerating the southern drawl, "I'm a bit jealous of your Olivia. You're a sweet screw, darlin'. Too bad that dyke'll never wanna touch your pretty little ass again."

Olivia saw herself standing up, going over to the defense, and bashing Patton's face in with her bare hands. Unfortunately, imagining it wasn't nearly as satisfying as actually doing it would be. Look at me, she thought in Amanda's direction, reminding herself to focus on her girlfriend and not the monster that had brought them there. Just look at me, baby. Let me tell you how much I love you. Just look at me. 

Alex hadn't heard this part of the testimony before, but she understood why Amanda chose to save it until now. A pin drop could have been heard in the courtroom at that moment, only the sounds of breathing and awkward shuffling remained.

Amanda realized she hadn't looked at Olivia for some time. What if she was angry? What if she was disgusted? Panicking, the blonde looked up, and Alex stepped out of her way as she asked the next question. "Do you see the man who attacked you in the courtroom today?"

Before she could answer, as soon as Amanda made eye contact with her, Liv subtly lifted her right hand and rested it over her heart, giving her girlfriend a sad smile. "Yes." Amanda allowed herself to look once more at Patton, keeping Olivia on her mind and in her heart.

An intentional point was all Alex needed from her. "Let the record reflect that the witness has identified the defendant, Charles Patton." The ADA's hand came once more to rest on the witness stand, giving it a gentle pat. "Thank you, Amanda."

Buchanan immediately stood up and walked around the defense's desk, taking a few steps in Amanda's direction. "Detective Rollins, did you consent to sex with the defendant?"

He was getting straight to the point, but Amanda was still looking at Olivia. "No."

"How do we know you didn't? How can you prove that?" Buchanan knew cross was designed for closed-ended questions intended to clarify or contradict things said during direct examination, but he evidently wanted to fluster Amanda with a series of more complicated inquiries delivered in quick succession. This is what she expected.

"I was paralyzed. I couldn't speak or move." The detective regretted feeling bad for herself during Alex's direct examination. Now, she wished she could go back to it because this was so much worse.

Buchanan saw this response coming, so he decided to be more specific. "But how do we know that you didn't consent to sex prior to the injection of the drug?"

Alex was well-versed in the man's questioning tactics, and she was also aware that she needed to appear impartial and professional, but it took every ounce of willpower she had to resist gritting her teeth as she rose from her seat. "Objection. Asked and answered."

"Withdrawn." Buchanan noticed Amanda's attempt to keep her eyes locked with Olivia's, and the blonde watched in helpless horror as the defense attorney came to stand directly between the two women, effectively blocking Amanda's view of her girlfriend. "Detective Rollins, it is your testimony that you responded to a text from my client, agreeing to meet at an abandoned building for sex. How do you expect us to believe, with no proof, that you changed your mind?"

"Objection. Argumentative."

"Withdrawn." Buchanan took a few steps towards the witness. "Can you prove that you changed your mind after the texts were sent?"

Amanda swallowed hard, trying feebly to ground herself to the present moment by roughly pinching the bridge of her nose. She leaned all the way to her left, hoping she could catch a glimpse, hoping Olivia was still there. " I didn't change my mind. I never consented. I agreed under duress." Just because she couldn't see her didn't mean—

The volume of the defense attorney's voice rose as he spoke. "That's not evidence, Detective. How can you prove this encounter was not consensual in nature?"

Amanda exhaled audibly, exasperated, longing to see Liv's chocolate pools of compassion. But her only choice as far as who to look at was Buchanan. "It just wasn't."

"Not good enough," he boomed. "Are you sure you didn't decide after the fact that your consensual affair with the Deputy Chief would cause trouble with your domestic partner, another SVU detective? Are you sure that, upon realizing what you had done, you didn't become angry and resentful, causing you to accuse my client of assault? Are you sure you're not perjuring yourself today to save your relationship?"

"Objection—Are you kidding?" Alex promptly jumped from her chair, scoffing in disbelief. "Compound questions, combative, and badgering. Mr. Buchanan is way out of line, your honor."

"Withdrawn." Buchanan held up his hands in mock surrender. "No further questions for this witness. Thank you for your candor, Detective Rollins."

As soon as Buchanan had returned to his seat, Amanda, who's heart was beating out of her chest, made eye contact with Alex. Please be done, please be done, please be done. The ADA shot the detective an apologetic glance, hoping she'd understand in a moment why she wanted to ask her a few more questions. "Redirect, your honor?"

Judge Blake nodded. "Go ahead, Ms. Cabot."

Alex paced the courtroom for a moment, coming intentionally to stand in Patton's line of sight, so that the defendant could no longer watch the cop testify. Two could play at this game. The prosecutor knew that this was her only chance to make it up to Amanda, to apologize for what had been done to her, for what she'd just heard about in nauseating detail. "Detective Rollins, defense counsel has proposed the idea that that whether you consented to sex with the defendant is unclear and unprovable. Do you mind if we talk about the nature of consent for a moment?"

As she took a long breath, Amanda was confused, but she bobbed her head up and down anyway. She had no reason to not trust the Assistant District Attorney. "No, that's fine."

Alex raised an eyebrow at her witness's uncertain tone, turning for a moment to look directly at the jury. "You're okay with talking about consent? Are you sure?"

Amanda nodded again, making eye contact with the attorney as she realized what Alex was doing. "Yes, I'm sure."

A satisfied smirk played on Olivia's lips as she watched the back-and-forth. The two blondes certainly hadn't planned this, but it couldn't have been more perfect if they did. The older detective made a note to buy Alex an edible arrangement or something.

"Great. Thank you, Detective. Would you say that this interaction between us has been an accurate depiction of what consent looks like?"

Buchanan had been waiting to strike. "Objection. This is speculation. Detective Rollins is not serving as an expert witness in these proceedings."

"Withdrawn." Alex took a few small steps in Amanda's direction, sufficiently certain that the cop was now aware of what she was trying to accomplish. "Have you ever consented to sex while under or directly before being put under the influence of an incapacitating substance, such as pancuronium bromide?"

Amanda shook her head. "Never."

"Detective Rollins, in your personal experience, when you consent to sex, is it enthusiastic and freely given, involving no coercive power or threat? "

"Always."

Alex nodded, and the breath she had been holding escaped her throat. She was happy to never put Amanda through this again. "Thank you, Detective. No further questions for this witness. The people rest."

Olivia left the courtroom and waited for Alex and her girlfriend in a private room at the next recess, and she sighed in relief when Amanda walked straight into her arms, breathing her name into her shoulder. "You're okay, baby. You did so good." Liv knew the blonde was crying, so she just wrapped her up, pressing her lips into her hair. "I'm so sorry you had to deal with that from him, sweetheart, cornering you like that where you couldn't even see me." She looked up for a moment. "That was disgusting, Alex."

The ADA nodded in agreement. "I should have objected more, Rollins. I'm sorry."

The younger detective pulled slightly away from her girlfriend, just enough so the lawyer could see her lips as they moved. "No, you had to let him have his cross, especially to set you up for that ballsy redirect."

Alex shrugged, watching as the other blonde held on to her girlfriend for dear life, wiping away tears as they fell. "Do you two need a minute alone? I don't mean to intrude."

"No, you're fine." Amanda shook her head, wiping the last of her tears and taking a step away from Liv. She took a few slow deep breaths as the older detective gingerly pulled flattened blonde hair away from rosy cheeks. "That was risky, Alex, askin' me those leading questions. You were basically testifying."

"Nine times out of ten," the prosecutor rationalized, "attorneys don't object to leading during redirect. I took the chance. I just hope it pays off."

Liv pulled Amanda into her body once more, wanting the rhythm of her breathing to calm the younger woman's occasional hiccups and gasps as she came down from her cry. "Alex, it almost seemed like you forgot Amanda isn't here as an expert witness."

"I didn't forget," she acknowledged, "but I'm sure glad Buchanan only objected once. It's just as well, as long as it proves Patton is the lying scumbag rapist he is."

"I don't want you to get in trouble though, Alex." The brunette pulled up a chair for her girlfriend to sit in before pouring her a cup of water. "Being objective and doing your job ethically is important to you."

Alex raised her hands in surrender. "No harm done. I made the questions less speculative, and it seemed to satisfy the defense. If Buchanan objected to the line of questioning again, I would have pivoted.  
He didn't, and so—it worked. I appreciate your concern for me, Liv, but it's not like either of you are exactly the poster child for objectivity. I'm learning that may not be a bad thing."  
Olivia couldn't argue with that. She turned back to Amanda. "You doing okay, love?"

"Yeah. It was just a lot…" She swallowed. "Really fast. I didn't know how explicit to get, but I know juries respond to details. I'm sorry, Liv. I'm sorry you had to hear that."

"Shh, baby. Don't be sorry." Olivia knelt down next to her girlfriend, tucking a wild strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm so proud of you."

"You did great," Alex commended her with a small smile. "You really held your own with Buchanan. I can't imagine how hard that was."

"Yeah, I did kinda want to curl up into a ball and cry."

Olivia smoothed her hand over Amanda's hair, letting it rest against her shoulder. "It's over now, okay?"

Amanda nodded with one last shaky sigh. "I'm just glad my part is done. Now I can't wait to see how Buchanan thinks I consensually got pancuronium bromide in my system."

"Well, since I'm already going to hell, maybe after Patton testifies, I'll call you myself."

Liv looked up at the ADA and for the first time that day, she noticed the reddening of her eyes as well as the dark circles below them. "Alex, get some rest."

"I'll do what I can. Liv, I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning for Buchanan's first witness. Goodnight, guys."

The brunette turned to Amanda after Alex had left the room. "You ready to go?" After she nodded, Olivia grabbed her girlfriend's jacket, wrapping it around her as she stood up. The older woman took Amanda's hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze before they left the room.

"That was…out of character for her," Amanda observed, leaning into Olivia as the brunette led her through the courthouse lobby. "Like she's tryin' to match Buchanan's…Buchanan-ness." There was no denying that the younger cop was exhausted, but she didn't like that she felt as if she was losing definitions to words she used all the time.

"This case is especially important to her," Olivia figured. "I think she blames herself."

"Blames herself for what?" Amanda's girlfriend just looked at her. "For what happened to me? Because she didn't come looking immediately? Liv. She has to know that the only person to blame for what was done to me is Patton."

Liv's brow furrowed as she lifted their joined hands in order to kiss a set of knuckles. "I'll be sure to remember you said that the next time you try to claim you walked into it."

"That's probably for the best." Amanda chuckled lightly. Leave it to Olivia to lovingly call the blonde out for being a hypocrite. "Hey, Liv, can I ask you a crazy, out-of-the-blue question?"

Olivia stopped as they arrived at their car. "Sure."

"Do you want to get married?" Amanda blurted out, blushing furiously. "I mean, not now," she amended. "Just…after the trial. When all this is over."

A wide smile spread across her lips, and the light soreness was welcome. "I would love that."

"Really?" Amanda didn't know what she expected her girlfriend's response to be, but the enthusiasm she was seeing on the older woman's face and in her words was not it. "After everything, you—you still  
want to be my wife?"

"Of course." Olivia checked around her to be sure no one was close enough to observe the interaction, and then she pulled Amanda to her gently. "Look at me, love. Nothing I heard today changes anything at all, except that it's further proof you're the strongest person I know."

Amanda wanted to be convinced, but she knew there was no way Liv was unaffected by her words. "Cause I mean," she shrugged, "I can't promise you a wedding night."

Olivia shook her head, releasing both of her girlfriend's hands in order to cradle her face with both of her own. "That's not why I want to get married, sweetheart. I want the whole world to know how much I love you."

Amanda took a shaky breath. "That's a lot of people."

Liv leaned in to press her lips to the blonde's forehead. "It's a lot of love."

The next morning came quickly for Olivia, and before she knew it, Buchanan had begun his direct examination of Amanda's old boss. "Captain Reynolds, how do you know the defendant?"

"He is my direct supervisor."

"So," the defense attorney continued, taking a few steps, "he's been involved in detective work around sex crimes for many years?"

Captain Reynolds nodded. "Yes, even longer than me. He's very dedicated to putting rapists away."

Buchanan smiled, approaching Reynolds. "In his time as your superior officer, have you ever known Deputy Chief Patton to be violent towards women?"

Reynolds chuckled, shaking his head in the negative. "Never, Mr. Buchanan. He's a perfect gentleman."

"Captain Reynolds, if not to rape the complainant, why was Patton in New York on the day in question?"

"About a week before he was arrested, he told me he was goin' to the city for business. He does that sometimes. But listen," the Captain implored, leaning towards the mic, "that Amanda Rollins always had a thing for him, was always goin' after him."

Both of Olivia's fists were clenched in rage, and she looked at Alex. Was she going to object? Reynolds was a character witness for Patton, he wasn't there to talk about Amanda. But she didn't. The prosecutor leaned back casually as she listened to the two men speak. The brunette allowed her fingers to relax. The ADA must have had a plan.

"So, if Detective Rollins and Deputy Chief Patton were having an affair…" Buchanan trailed off in order to let his witness finish the statement.

"I wouldn't be surprised. Not one bit," he exaggerated. "Chief is a ladies' man—women trip over themselves tryin' to get to him. But he's not a rapist."

Buchanan nodded. "Thank you, Captain."

He gestured for Alex to begin cross, and she stood up immediately. Olivia could tell she was out for blood, which she deemed appropriate for the situation. "Captain Reynolds, it is your testimony that  
Deputy Chief Patton often comes to New York for business, correct?" She tapped her pen against her hand as she spoke.

"Correct."

"Now, does that business require him to carry around a dangerous paralytic agent?"

Reynolds was unsure of how to respond to the attorney's question. "What?"

Alex smiled, stepping forward. Her question had landed in its intended way, and it was clear the Captain new more than he was letting on. "Let me explain. You said Chief Patton told you the week before  
the alleged crime took place that he was coming to New York for business. What was he doing here that required him to have pancuronium bromide pulled up in a syringe, ready to go? He's not an  
executioner, and even if he were, New York has abolished the death penalty—not that even an executioner in Georgia would likely be carrying around a lethal drug. So why did he have it?"

"I…can't speak to that."

Alex hummed as she rested her legs against her own desk, crossing her arms in smug defiance. "You can't speak to that or you won't speak to that?"

Reynolds stuttered out a sad attempt at an answer. "I won't speak—I mean I can't speak to that."

"Hmm." Alex looked directly at Buchanan. "Who's perjuring themselves now?"

"Objection!" Buchanan thought for a moment, realizing he wasn't sure if he even had grounds to object. 

Alex was unbothered, moving to sit back down. "Withdrawn. Nothing further."

Quickly, Reynolds was dismissed from the witness stand and he was replaced with Patton. Olivia bore holes into him as he spoke, giving him no choice but to look elsewhere. "Now, Chief Patton, you are an esteemed sex crimes Deputy Chief. Why would Amanda Rollins accuse you of rape?"

Patton shrugged. "I have no idea. I was always good to that girl. I know things got outta hand between us, and I regret the injuries she sustained, but…rape? No. Never."

Buchanan nodded. "Detective Rollins had her chance to tell her side of the story, and you've decided to testify in order to tell yours. So, I'm going to let you do that now. Please tell us what happened on the day in question, Chief Patton."

"First," Patton sighed, eyeing Olivia for only a moment, having to avert her gaze when she didn't falter, "I want to say that it brings me no pleasure to disparage a brother in blue, or in this case, a sister. I have a great deal of respect for Amanda Rollins, and I hope our workin' relationship can be restored in the future. She's a talented detective."

"Thank you for sharing that with us, sir. Can you start with the text the detective says she received?"

"Certainly." Patton leaned forward. "I was in New York for business, and I reached out to Amanda, since I know she's with Manhattan SVU now. I just wanted to catch up, but she started flirting." The man shifted uncomfortably, and he cleared his throat loudly. "I'm a married man, Mr. Buchanan, and I know what I did was sinful, but when she offered me more than just catchin' up, well—who was I to refuse?"

"So, she propositioned you?"

"Oh, absolutely. Absolutely," the Deputy Chief stressed. "She was chompin' at the bit to meet me in that buildin'. She said she'd turn off her phone so her girlfriend couldn't track her."

"What happened in the building?"

"Well, we had sex. A few times. And then all of a sudden, she…changed."

Buchanan raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'she changed'?"

"Well, she got violent. Tried to lay a few on me. Truthfully, I wasn't sure what was goin' on. I saw a rock, and I didn't even think—I just picked it up. I hit her with it. I was really just tryin' to get her to calm down, but even after I defended myself with the rock, she kept screamin', tellin' me I was gonna ruin her life, something about her girlfriend breakin' up with her. Honestly, it wasn't even coherent half the time." Patton looked up at Buchanan. "I was afraid she was gonna hurt herself."

The defense attorney nodded. "Chief Patton, the people have brought up your use of pancuronium bromide. Can you explain its involvement with the incident at the warehouse?"

"Sure, counselor. I realize it's weird," he conceded, "but I wanted to be sufficiently prepared in case Amanda went crazy on me. I mean, she's done it before—when a case didn't go her way, when a perp got released, any time I needed to reprimand her in my office. She's always had violent tendencies, and I wanted to be prepared to defend myself without causing her grievous harm. She's not a bad young lady, just misguided. The rock was a mistake, something I resorted to out of fear."

"So, you brought the pancuronium bromide to New York in case Detective Rollins became violent towards you during your time together?" Buchanan confirmed.

"I know it sounds crazy. I have a buddy that works on death row. I wanted to connect with Amanda again, and I wanted to do it without puttin' myself in danger, but I could never hit a woman. It was a really small dose, just enough to keep her still while I got away and called for help."

"There's no record of your 911 call, Chief," the defense attorney pointed out. "Why is that?"

"I realized as I picked up my phone to call that I wasn't puttin' myself in a good position, but I was puttin' Amanda Rollins in a great position to accuse me of rape. I got scared. Everyone believes women these days, and I was afraid no one would want to hear my side of the story. I'm just glad she's okay."

Buchanan nodded. "I need you to be very explicit, Deputy Chief Patton. Did you rape Detective Amanda Rollins?"

He shook his head vehemently. "Of course not. The truth is I feel sorry for her."

"Thank you, Chief." He turned to Alex with a small, vile smirk. "Your witness, Ms. Cabot."

Alex stood up behind her chair, white knuckling the slots in the wood for a moment. "May I have a brief recess before cross, your honor?"

Olivia was at the attorney's toes as she left the courtroom immediately after she'd been granted the recess. She was fuming. "You can't possibly tell me you're not ready to cross examine that sorry excuse for a defense."

"Of course I'm ready, but I need a few minutes to calm myself." Alex brought her right hand to her forehead, leaning slightly against the wall with her other hand. "I don't even want to dignify the self-defense story by acknowledging it, Liv. We need another strategy, something that will completely blow this bogus defense to smithereens." The ADA exhaled slowly. "I think the jury is buying our side. I mean, the doctor did more than I could have hoped with that cannibalism answer. Remind me to retain her as an expert witness, by the way. What I'm worried about is the language around affirmative consent in New York is vague at best. So we can't argue that she didn't say yes, but Buchanan can argue that she didn't say no."

"What are you talking about Alex?" Olivia, who'd been following the ADA until the end of her rant, was dumbfounded. "She couldn't say no."

"I know that." Alex held out a hand in front of her to pause Liv's understandable reaction. "But Buchanan is claiming that the sexual contact happened before the paralyzing agent, in which case she would have been capable of saying no. Regardless, it's hard to prove that what happened is what happened, in the order that it happened. "

"He threatened me though. That's coercive force, and her lack of no means nothing in that case."

Alex nodded. She knew this is the direction she needed to head in, as this would be her first, last, and only chance to question Patton. "I can push the affirmative consent piece in summation, especially since I brought it up with the redirect. Someone needs to set that precedent. God knows it's long past due. Juries are finicky though, and I need more than that. We have to prove he threatened you, something more solid than Amanda's word." Alex wracked her mind, quickly shuffling through everything she knew about Amanda's attack, eventually arriving at a promising thought. "I have an idea.  
Amanda put the address of this abandoned warehouse in her drafts before she deleted the texts. Did she type it or was it a screenshot?" Olivia shrugged. "Can you get her on the phone?"  
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Trust me. I want to win this case as much as you do, Olivia."

After the recess, the ADA started by passing Buchanan a piece of paper. "May I approach the bench, your honor?" Alex held up her two remaining copies of the document in order to display her reasoning for the request.

Buchanan basically rolled his eyes upon examining the paper in front of him. "Objection. Your honor, this is the first I'm hearing about this."

Judge Blake waved both attorneys forward. "Counsel, approach."

Buchanan interrupted his opponent as she tried to speak. "This is ridiculous, your honor. My client and I have the right to be made aware of any new evidence against him in a timely manner."

Alex handed the judge her copy of the exhibit she was attempting to enter into evidence. "Mr. Buchanan's objection is premature, your honor. I'm currently in the process of establishing relevance, and he will have the opportunity to raise any objection based on that. It is Detective Rollins's testimony that she deleted these text messages before leaving the courthouse on the date in question. However, it recently has come to the people's attention that first she screenshotted her reply to the defendant. We would have entered it into evidence earlier, but it hasn't been available to us until now, and the people believe that texts from the complainant to the defendant mere minutes before the alleged crime took place are relevant to this case. The jury should hear about them."

"I'm inclined to agree with you, Ms. Cabot. I'll admit the messages into evidence on the condition that you can establish relevance. But tread carefully."

Alex nodded. "Thank you, Judge." She placed the original print out with a highlighted text in front of her witness as the defense attorney walked back to his seat. "Chief Patton, what is on the paper in front of you?"

"Text messages."

"Between you and Amanda Rollins on the day in question, correct?"

"Yes."

"I'd like to enter this document into evidence as people's exhibit two." She waited for Buchanan to object, but to Alex's surprise, he didn't. This made it more convenient for her, but she had been prepared for a fight. The prosecutor's analysis of the trial proceedings so far was that it was going her way, but she needed something more concrete, hard evidence to prove Amanda hadn't consented, even before the pancuronium. Because the defense attorney didn't object—Alex knew he had no legal basis to do so—the judge found the text messages to be admissible.

"Deputy Chief Patton, it is your testimony that Amanda Rollins consented to sex with you on the day in question, correct?"

"Yes."

"Now, just so we're all operating under the same working definition, can you please share with us what consent means to you?"

Buchanan scoffed. "Objection—relevance. I didn't ask this witness anything about the definition of consent."

Before Judge Blake could rule on the objection, Alex took a chance and spoke up. "Your honor, the defense's contention is that before physically assaulting him, Detective Rollins engaged in consensual sex with the defendant. I think the jury should know what an 'esteemed sex crimes Deputy Chief'—Mr. Buchanan's words—means when he refers to 'consensual sex'. It's the definition of relevant."

"Objection overruled. The witness may answer."

"Uh…" Patton thought for a moment, before speaking as if he were reading out of a dictionary. "A consensual sexual encounter occurs when all parties enthusiastically agree to engage in an activity, freely given, with no threat, physical force, or any other form of coercion."

"Right." Alex nodded, pacing casually back and forth. "That was Detective Rollins's testimony as well. Seems as if APD had a consensus regarding consent."

Buchanan hadn't sat down since his last objection. "Objection—is there a question here?"

"I'll happily rephrase that," Alex obliged. "Is that the definition of consent you and your subordinates operate under in Atlanta?"

"Of course."

"Great. Now, let's get back to people's exhibit two. The highlighted text in front of you is a message to you from Detective Rollins, yes?"

Patton nodded. "Yes."

Alex once again leaned against her desk, prepared to watch the show she'd so painstakingly produced. The jury was going to love this. "Would you read it for us please?"

The man cleared his throat, looking down at the paper in front of him, and Alex could tell how badly he was wishing it said anything other than what it did. He began to sweat, and the attorney was only slightly ashamed to admit she was enjoying the defendant's discomfort. It was an inappropriately small dose of his own medicine. "'I'll do anything you want, just please don't touch Olivia'."

The ADA nodded. This was her winning argument. "Just one question. Does that look enthusiastic to you, Deputy Chief Patton? Freely given without coercion or threat?"

"I…uh…."

Alex leaned further against her desk, crossing her arms. "You what? Is that a no? Are you admitting that by your own standard, Detective Rollins did not consent to sex with you?"

Patton reached to loosen his tie. "Please."

Alex didn't falter, coming as close to the witness stand as she assumed she could without being given a warning by Judge Blake. "I'm sure 'please' is exactly what Detective Rollins would have said to you on that day if you hadn't rendered her incapable of doing so. I'm going to need you to answer the question, Chief Patton."

"I…I refuse to answer."

After a moment of tense silence, Alex turned her attention to Judge Blake. "Your honor, please instruct the witness to answer the question."

"Chief Patton," the judge said, "by deciding to testify today, you give up your fifth amendment right to remain silent. You must answer Ms. Cabot's questions."

Patton swallowed hard. "Can you, uh, can you repeat the question, ma'am?"

"Happy to. Do the words you see in front of you appear to be enthusiastic and freely given?" 

"Not particularly."

Alex chuckled. "Not particularly," she repeated, turning her back to Patton and walking back towards her desk with a small smile in Olivia's direction. She knew she'd made the right call.

"Your honor, I have no further questions for this witness."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is so long, I'm so sorry. I would love to know what you all think, and I hope you are all still safe and healthy.  
> -Gabby


	9. Conviction Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.  
> SO many typos in the last chapter! Ahhh! I hate it. I’m glad it doesn’t seem to be a big deal for you guys. I also want to note that if you are reading this story as I post it, I just made a rather significant edit to the ending of the last chapter. It’s important for you to go back and re-read the last few lines. I have come to learn that if a defendant chooses to testify, they must answer every question. They CANNOT refuse to answer. I changed the ending so that it has legal accuracy. It will be brought up in this chapter, so please re-read the ending of the last chapter. Thank you for reading at all, and I’m sorry to make you re-read a portion of this story, but it is so important to me that this is accurate to the fullest extent possible.  
> I hope everyone is still safe and healthy! We get through this together by staying apart.  
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Conviction Part 1

Detective Benson entered the apartment that evening with a heavy exhale, dropping her purse onto the ground and stumbling into the living room. She was surprised to see her fiancée’s belongings thrown on the floor by the entrance to their home. “’Manda?”

A blonde head peaked over the couch in response to the soft voice, and a smile involuntarily broke on her lips. “Hey, baby.” Amanda was so incredibly relieved that Olivia was home. It had been the longest day of her life, waiting and not knowing. She reached out for the older woman as she approached, wrapping an arm around her neck and pecking her lips. “How was it?”

After returning the affectionate greeting, Olivia collapsed onto the couch, laying her head on her fiancée’s shoulder. Still, she said nothing. Amanda slid slightly away from her after a moment. “Earth to Olivia. How’d it go?”

The younger woman was beginning to freak out. She’d spent all day absently staring at her computer and pretending to get work done due to the fact that she was anxious about what was happening in Trial Part 36, and Liv’s lack of words wasn’t reassuring. Did something bad happen? Alex had only rested her case the day before and Buchanan started putting witnesses on the stand that morning, so there was no way the jury had returned a verdict yet. There was a pregnant pause as the younger woman anxiously waited for Olivia to speak. It seemed as if she wasn’t sure what to say. The brunette sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “It was…fine.”

Amanda promptly stood up, nervously raking her fingers through yellow locks and allowing the grounding pulling sensation to soothe her. “Fine? What does fine mean? I’m not askin’ for a play-by-play, Liv, but I’d like to know what our chances are.”

Benson nodded, patting the couch next to her. “Come here, love. I didn’t mean to scare you.” When Amanda hesitated, Olivia pat the fabric once more, breathing deeply. “Please. It’s okay.” 

She obliged, taking a hesitant seat, before pivoting her body towards Olivia. Whatever it was, stubborn-as-fuck Rollins knew she could take it. “What are you not wanting to tell me?”

“Alex is a highly-skilled prosecutor,” Olivia prefaced, “but Buchanan went in hard, and it was…painful to watch.” The brunette couldn’t get it out of her head—the sound of Patton’s gentlemanly drawl, the way he expressed pity in regard to Amanda, claimed to respect her, maintained that he’d never hurt her. It was quite frankly enough to make the woman vomit. The only mercy may very well have been that her fiancée hadn’t been present in court to witness it. Still, Olivia didn’t see herself getting over the atrocious lies of Buchanan’s defense any time soon. She knew his arrogant grin and his haughty bellow would haunt her dreams.

“Well, how did the screenshot go over?” Amanda tried, noting that Olivia seemed down and hoping the good news would calm them both. “It was smart of Alex to think of that. I didn’t remember takin’ the screenshot. I thought I typed the address out.” Amanda recalled less of what had happened that day than her detailed courtroom testimony would imply. There were some events, harrowing moments, that she remembered in their excruciatingly vivid entirety, but other flashes of time, like her decision to save the address Patton had provided her with, existed only in vague dream-like snippets, as if she’d been removed from her body and was watching one of her cop shows from the living room couch. Amanda always wondered if there were police procedurals in “cop show land.” Maybe there were. She also wondered if she’d known as she did it that the screenshot she took of the messages between herself and her former superior also contained proof of Patton’s threat, or if she just figured it would be quicker than manually entering a full address into an email draft. Was she even thinking in the seconds between replying to the Deputy Chief’s messages and throwing out her phone? Did her body just know what to do? Had she been preparing for that moment her entire life?

Olivia offered the younger woman a sad smile and a small nod, pressing the fingers of her right hand into Amanda’s thigh in a gesture of comfort and pride. “I think that screenshot might have won Alex the case. Summations are tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, good.” Amanda was relieved, but she was confused about why her fiancée clearly didn’t feel the same way. Was she angry about Buchanan’s allegation that the blonde had only accused Patton in order to save their relationship? Was there a part of the older detective that thought whatever story the defense attorney had come up with had some merit? “I don’t understand why you’re so upset, honey. You said Alex made a really good case. It sounds like she was able to continue that in cross.” Amanda had been feeling helpless and defeated all day, resigned to having no further control over the outcome of the case, her case. But now, a small but stubborn fire had been lit in the center of her chest, as evidenced by the quickening of the panicked beat, almost like her heart was being pursued by an attacker, and each thump was an attempt to outrun the would-be assailant. Her breath caught in her throat as she asked, “Baby, am I missin’ something?”

“No, you’re not missing anything, sweetheart,” Liv promised, brushing her fingers across Amanda’s cheek. The last thing the brunette wanted to do was scare the woman she loved, but she had also vowed to be honest with her. God, the least of what Amanda deserved—after being put through so much at the hands of unrestrained malintent—was the truth. “I hated every moment of today,” Olivia lamented, her lip quivering, “and I’m just trying to make some sense of it. Buchanan tried this bullshit defense, saying that you pursued Patton, and then after you had sex, you attacked him because you were angry.”

Amanda noticed that this story didn’t appropriately address each component of the prosecution’s theory of the crime. “And the pancuronium?” 

The older woman shrugged, shaking her head. “Self-defense.”

"That’s ridiculous.” Amanda interlaced her fingers with Olivia’s, bringing their joined hands to her lips before dropping them into her lap. “Is the jury buyin’ it?”

“God, I hope not.” Liv rubbed at her tired eyes, standing up and pulling Amanda with her into the kitchen. As the two women were speaking, it had hit her exactly how hungry she was. As the brunette opened the refrigerator, she peaked her head out to look at her fiancée. “Have you eaten?”

Amanda shook her head. “Not hungry.”

Benson nodded, deciding to let it go as she put some left-over pasta into the microwave. The offending beep that indicated Liv’s food was hot broke the silence between them as the older detective foraged for a clean fork. “What I can say is during Alex’s cross examination of Patton, I almost stood up and clapped. She got him to admit there was no way what happened was consensual.”

"He said that?” She leaned against the counter across from Olivia. Amanda figured there was no way Patton would ever confess to raping her, no matter how backed into a corner he felt. The man genuinely felt entitled to her body, like he owned a part of her, something that the blonde had in the past been became accustomed to. Amanda vaguely remembered what it was like to be someone’s possession, an experience that went back to her childhood, but being with Olivia had all but erased her instinct to let people treat her like dirt. Patton stole the eraser right out of Liv’s hand though, and he was proud of it. He didn’t believe he raped Amanda because there was no such thing as raping Amanda. He would never claim otherwise.

The brunette swallowed a bite of lukewarm spaghetti, washing it down with water, before turning with the container to face Amanda. “He refused to answer. Any juror with a high school diploma should be able to figure that out. That moment was the only thing that made this day bearable. I wanted to give Alex a hug.”

Amanda considered Olivia’s words for a moment. “I thought once a defendant chooses to testify, they can’t plead the fifth. That was incredibly stupid of him to try, and it was irresponsible of Buchanan to not make sure his client was aware of the rules. Unless of course Buchanan advised him to try it as a Hail Mary, which—though ballsy, is still so stupid.”

“Hmm, you are correct, counselor,” Liv mused with a smirk at the law nerd in front of her. “Alex forced him to answer, and it was beautiful.” The brunette was generally anti-violence in all its forms. Of course she recognized the need for self defense and why deadly force might be called for to protect civilians, but as a rule, Olivia objected to cruelty for cruelty’s sake. She couldn’t think of another time in her life when watching a human being having all choice taken away had been pleasing to her. She didn’t like the way the situation made her feel—satisfied because God, how poetic was this justice, but also guilty because this wasn’t who the detective was. 

“What did he say?” Amanda tapped her foot anxiously. The younger woman constantly heard the words Patton had said to her on loop, and she hoped maybe her brain would now be able to play a different tune. 

Olivia lifted a hand in order to form air-quotes. “That the text you sent to him wasn’t ‘particularly’ enthusiastic.”

“Oh my God.” Amanda covered her mouth with her hand. She didn’t believe this could ever happen. Whether the admission would prove to be productive as it pertained to the trial still remained to be seen. The blonde knew New York had yet to employ affirmative consent language in its sex crime statutes, but hearing that Patton admitted out loud at least a tiny portion of what he did to her was strangely validating. “Alex made him say that?”

“Uh huh. He also looked like he was about to have a panic attack, so…” Olivia took another bite of food, chewing as she waited for Amanda to respond.

“Really?”

Olivia nodded, swallowing. “Serves him right, too, after everything they were trying to say about you.”

“I imagine not too many nice things were said about me, huh?” the blonde assumed, coming to stand next to Olivia and leaning into her. 

Liv swirled the last of the spaghetti around her fork and disposed of the container, wrapping an arm around her fiancée as she chewed. After swallowing, she turned her full attention to Amanda, pressing a kiss into her hair. “Buchanan threw every defense he could think off at the wall, just to see what would stick. But, love?”

Amanda looked up, humming at the sensation of the brunette running her fingers through her hair. “Yeah?”

“I want you to know that I don’t believe any of it. Okay?” The younger detective nodded, burying her face into Olivia’s shirt. “I believe you. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” the blonde mumbled, wrapping both arms around Olivia. “Thank you for being here with me through all this.”

“With you is exactly where I want to be.”

Amanda lifted her head and met Olivia’s lips in a slow kiss. She tasted marinara sauce on her, and the blonde smiled after, resting her forehead against her fiancée’s. The older woman bumped her nose affectionately against Amanda’s. “What are you doing home so early anyway?”

The detective sighed. She’d been waiting for this question, but it had taken Olivia longer than she’d anticipated to ask it. “Munch sent me home ‘cause I wasn’t bein’ very productive. Cragen backed him up.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Were they nice about it at least?”

“Oh yeah,” she stressed, “everyone is always so nice to fragile Rollins these days. Captain even made it a request and not an order. How considerate of him,” she finished sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she pulled away from Olivia. 

The brunette was still stuck on the fact that her fiancée was sent home at all. “Did something happen that made it hard to focus, a difficult case or…?”

Amanda shook her head, exhaling audibly. “Remember how you told me that you didn’t need the details, you just needed to know that I’m struggling?” Liv nodded with a concerned expression, reaching out to squeeze the other woman’s upper arm. “Well, I'm strugglin’ today,” she breathed, sucking her lower lip between her teeth.

Olivia carefully pulled the blonde into her chest, holding the back of her head with a loving hand. “What can I do?” she cooed, allowing her fingers to massage the woman’s scalp.

Rollins mumbled into Liv’s shoulder. “Will you sit with me while I take a bath?”

Olivia hesitated, gingerly stepping back to get a good look at the younger woman’s eyes. “Are you going to be comfortable with that?”

Amanda squinted in speculation, brushing her knuckles up and down Olivia’s cheek. “Yeah, babe, it’s just you.” 

The older cop nodded, but her expression was uncertain. “You sure?”

The blonde tilted her head to the side, dropping her hand off her fiancée’s face. How many times was Olivia going to check? Was she unwilling to sit on the ground next to her while she bathed? Was she trying to get out of it? “Are you sure? If you don’t want to—”

Liv interrupted. “I do, I do want to.” She rested both hands on Amanda’s shoulders, slowly running them down her arms before coming to a stop when she grasped each of the other woman’s hands. “We just haven’t gone that far yet, and I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“I don’t feel pressured.” Amanda shook her head. “I asked you to do this, remember? It was my idea.”

The brunette smiled, releasing one of her fiancée’s hands and pulling her towards the bedroom by the other. “Come on.”

Before long, Amanda was settled in the bathtub, and Olivia was resting her chin and arm on the acrylic lip. “Do you want me to wash your hair?” Olivia asked softly, reaching to pull some blonde hair behind Amanda’s shoulder.

“I actually washed my hair earlier,” she admitted. “I’m just wanting to sit in the warm water and be with you.”

“Okay, love.” Liv let her fingers delicately caress the skin over her collar bone, an area she’d exposed by moving her fiancée’s hair out of the way. 

“Thanks though,” the younger woman added, tucking her chin to kiss the brunette’s hand.

Olivia hummed softly. “Of course.”

When Amanda looked up to meet the other detective’s eyes, she felt a magnetic pull drawing her forward. She watched Olivia be overtaken by the same invisible force, her tongue protruding slightly beyond her lips instinctually in order to moisturize them. When their foreheads met, the younger detective tangled her fingers into Liv’s hair, and when her lips brushed against the other woman’s, an audible sigh escaped the blonde, the vibration of it shooting through Olivia’s body and arriving at her core, making a warm home between her legs. 

Almost six months. 

It had been almost six months since they had been together like this. Sure, they had kissed in affectionate greetings and hesitant farewells, each pair of lips teasing the other because both women knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. Just hello and goodbye—the touch never lingered. 

Olivia would always be the first to pull away, a sad smile forming on her lips as she let her fingers delicately trace the soft skin of Amanda’s face, a gentle declaration of love floating in the air. The words she said were “I love you”, but what she really meant was always “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry we can’t go further.

I’m sorry you’re hurting.

I’m sorry you’re not ready.

I’m sorry—I want to connect, but we just can’t.

It wouldn’t be the right thing to do.

A relieved moan ripped through Amanda’s throat when she felt Olivia respond to her touch, meeting the intensity of her movements with equal fervor. What had started as a chaste moment of connection had turned into a frenzied makeout session, but the blonde wasn’t complaining. Water from the bathtub splashed onto the floor as they kissed, the brunette scarcely aware of her socks becoming saturated. Amanda shifted to be closer to Olivia, sitting up on her knees and letting pruny fingers wander down her back and grip onto the hem of the shirt she was wearing, before attempting to pull it fully off of her. 

This was heaven. This was the light Amanda had been searching for.

Suddenly and without warning, the older woman’s body went rigid against her and she stopped responding altogether, Amanda’s chest becoming tight at the thought of her light being snuffed out so quickly. She watched intently as the brunette grimaced, releasing the other woman’s lips with a regretful inhale.

“My love,” Olivia whispered after she’d retreated, barely an inch separating the women as a pained expression marred her beautiful features for a moment, “this is not a good idea.”

The blonde pulled further back, keeping one arm looped around the older woman’s neck, refusing to acquiesce in Olivia’s unilateral decision to end the contact. “What do you mean, this isn’t a good idea?”

Liv gestured vaguely between them with her free hand, exhaling awkwardly in a small grunt. “You said you're already having a hard time today.”

Amanda’s facial expression changed immediately, a hopeful desire giving way to rejection and defeat for a short time, and then a stone-faced stoicism took over, and the younger of the two women stood up abruptly, wrapping a towel around her nude form and stomping back into the bedroom, leaving Olivia confused and soaked on the floor. “It's okay. You clearly don't want me anymore.” Of course Olivia wasn’t attracted to her anymore, didn’t want to touch her, hardly wanted to look at her. How could Amanda have allowed herself to be stupid enough to believe otherwise? She was damaged goods, and not even the least judgmental person on the planet would be able to get past that.

“Wait, hold on, ‘Manda,” the brunette begged upon realizing what had happened. She used the lip of the bathtub for support as she pulled herself slowly to her feet, and then she followed her fiancée out of the bathroom, wet socks rubbing uncomfortably against the carpet. “Let's get back on the same page. What Patton said to you, baby, it's not true.” 

When the other woman turned back around, her cheeks were stained with tears, and she struggled to hold up the thin towel covering every inch of scarred vulnerability. Amanda felt utterly exposed, and she’d never felt so foolish in her entire life. It wasn’t Olivia’s fault. No one could love her now. But she didn’t appreciate the insult to her intelligence in the form of her fiancée pretending Patton’s words to her didn’t have at least some accuracy to them. “How?”

Olivia’s head tipped to the side, sympathy evident on her face. “How what, sweetheart?”

“How do you love me?” Amanda was sobbing now, her questions coming out in breathless screeches as her cheeks grew redder by the second. Benson recognized this as a bodily response to the woman not breathing adequately. “How do you want me? After what he did to me? I'm disgusting, Olivia.” The brunette’s reaction to her advances in the bathtub only confirmed what Amanda had already known, but it didn’t make it any easier. She’d figured it wouldn’t be as painful if she coaxed the woman to admit she not longer wanted her, but she was wrong. It still hurt so much. 

“Hey, no.” Olivia gave into her urge to approach the other woman, reaching out carefully but firmly to grab ahold of her shoulders. “No, no, no, no, no.” She didn’t feel like she’d ever say the word enough times to get her point across. “Don't talk about my incredible fiancée like that. I love you, Amanda.”

The blonde inhaled sharply, shaking her head. Olivia was being insistent, and she’d never overtly lied to her before, but she just couldn’t convince herself she was being truthful. “I'm just not feeling that right now.”

“Because I turned down sex?” Liv dropped both of her hands, the look Amanda gave her providing all the information she needed. Tears were still consistently flowing out of her eyes, and her cheeks, though improving, were still an unnatural color. Shame washed over her face in response to the brunette’s question, and she tightly clenched her eyelids together, reaching after a moment to conceal them completely from her fiancée’s view. “My love,” the older woman sighed, her voice breaking. Amanda hated it when Olivia did this, when the emotions she felt influenced her breath as she spoke. It made her feel so guilty because she knew that her words were hurting the most amazing woman she’d ever had the honor of knowing.

Still, as she opened her eyes in response to the term of endearment, delivered so softy, as if the words would break her, Rollins melted against her own will. “I did that because you're in a vulnerable place right now, not because I don't want you. Was this whole thing a test to see if I'm still attracted to you? The bath and everything?”

The blonde winced at the feeling of being so completely and thoroughly understood. “You weren't at least a little tempted?”

Olivia swallowed hard, wiping at her eyes in an attempt to hide the darkening of her pupils. “Sweetheart, answering that question in this moment wouldn't be productive.”

“What would be productive, baby? Joinin’ a convent? You sure seem off-put at the idea of havin' sex with me.”

Though she’d preciously backed off, Olivia stepped towards the woman she loved again, searching for anything in her face that would give away her desire for space, and finding nothing, she reached out and smoothed the blonde’s hair and then brought her fingers around to wipe away some residual tears. “Amanda, what I’m off-put at is the idea of taking advantage of you. Look at me, sweetheart,” she added when she witnessed heavy downcast eyes avoiding her meaningful gaze. “I love you. And I want us to rebuild our sexual relationship. But slowly and with care. We have to give this the time it deserves. The time you deserve.”

Through all of this, Amanda’s subconscious still knew the truth. Deep down, she felt the love the other woman was sending her way, and she was highly aware that it was more than reasonable for Olivia to refuse to engage in any sexual contact minutes after being told that her fiancée was struggling. So, now, in addition to worthless, foolish, and expendable, she felt downright dumb for reacting the way she did. “I figured you wouldn't turn me down if you wanted me. I know that's not logical. I mean you're you. You're respecting me by realizing I can't consent right now. But why do I still feel so dirty?” 

Olivia continued to let her fingers lazily move across Amanda’s face, hair, shoulders, arms. “Is this because of testifying?”

She inhaled deeply, conceding the truth with a dejected nod. “I hadn't thought about those words in months, Liv. But now I can't stop.” She inhaled shakily before giving in to the emotions she’d been in constant battle with since her time on the stand. “I've been doin' so good,” she wept, reaching out for Olivia, her towel falling to the floor with no hands to hold it to wet skin.

Liv decided not to question how she should respond in that moment. Amanda was clearly asking for comfort, and it didn’t seem appropriate to waste any time at all by asking if the blonde was okay with something she was obviously requesting. “Hey. Hey, come here, my sweet.” One hand tangled in damp hair and the other rested on her bare back, drawing wide circles as she spoke. “I’ve got you. Just breathe,” she reminded, beginning to rock the woman from side to side. This was par for the course, Olivia told herself. Testifying could often be triggering for victims. She couldn’t stop the bile rising in her throat as she referred to Amanda as a victim in her own mind. It was something even she needed to work on accepting. “The trial was bound to bring these things up, love. It's okay. Healing isn't linear.”

“I get so mean to you when I feel insecure,” Amanda muttered into Liv’s now soaked blouse. “I hate it.”

“Baby,” the older detective breathed, wanting desperately to express to Amanda that she didn’t need to ruminate over yet another perceived failure, “feeling bad about feeling bad isn’t going to make you feel good. You got defensive. It’s an understandable response to fear.” When she pulled her head away from her fiancée’s shoulder, Olivia cradled her face with two careful hands. “We’ll work on it, but try not to be so hard on yourself.”

“Can I ask for something weird?” Amanda questioned after a moment, letting Olivia press her lips below each of her swollen eyelids. 

Benson nodded. “You can ask for anything you need, sweetheart.”

“It's less than sex, but it's more than this,” Amanda disclaimed, pulling Liv’s hands from her face and letting them swing between the two women.

“Oh?”

Amanda knew the worst that could happen was a gentle—and valid—no, but she still hesitated to make her request. “Can you take off your clothes, and can we just hold each other? I miss skin to skin contact.”

The blonde held her breath as Olivia dutifully considered her options. The older woman knew Amanda was already naked in her arms, and she didn’t seem to be bothered at all. At this point, it looked like she wanted to feel loved and wanted, and her desire for closeness wasn’t so much about sex as it had been earlier. Liv also knew that either of them could pump the brakes at any point. She wasn’t committing to anything other than a few minutes of physical intimacy. Surely, they could both handle that. “Of course we can do that. That sounds amazing.”

The two women settled together under the covers, holding each other close and reveling in the warmth of the contact. Amanda’s head was nuzzled underneath her fiancée’s chin, and she inhaled deeply, savoring the moment, before looking up at the brunette. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” she agreed, adding, “but 'Manda?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” What kind of conditions applied to kissing?

“Just a kiss for now,” Olivia said, cupping Amanda’s cheek with her hand. “I'm not comfortable with anything else yet.”

Oh. The kind of conditions that applied to a survivor navigating reclaiming sex in their relationship. Those kind of conditions. “Of course,” the blonde replied obviously, pulling Liv even closer to her. “You deserve to feel safe too.” 

Olivia smiled softly, bringing their foreheads together before letting her lips delicately caress the other woman’s. She felt safe kissing her fiancée like this because she had verbally set a stopping point, and each woman knew their role in keeping to it. She missed this intimacy as much as Amanda did, and she regretted not making sure the blonde still felt wanted, but she knew the other woman extremely well, and one of her few flaws was a propensity for being impulsive, for rushing into things before fully considering the consequences. This was great for spontaneous date night or innovation in busting perps, but it didn’t go over so well where her safety was concerned. Limiting how far they went physically was the best thing to do right now, but both detectives still hated it. And more, Olivia was acutely aware that she needed to be the one to set the boundaries because Amanda, in a desperate moment, would likely just throw caution to the wind and hope for the best.

“None of this is because I don't want to,” the brunette explained breathlessly after Amanda had ended the kiss.

“I know that. On any other day, I wouldn't have even questioned it. I was just feeling insecure and didn't quite know how to ask you about it.”  
Olivia nodded, bringing the hand that had remained on her fiancee’s cheek down her neck, over her shoulder, and around to rest on the small of her back, nimble fingers pressing into tense flesh. “I can imagine this would feel pretty impossible to talk about sometimes. I just want you to be in a place where you can more times than not tell me these things before we try to take it any further.”

“That makes perfect sense,” Amanda acknowledged, humming at the pleasant feeling of being so close to Olivia after so long. “I mean, I'm not ready yet and I know that. It's just hard because I do feel okay most of the time these days. And I think I might be ready soon, with the right intention and plan.”

“Let's get through the rest of the trial first,” the brunette proposed, pulling the other woman even closer so that their bodies were flush against each other. “We have summations tomorrow and possibly a verdict. And then maybe a victim impact or allocution statement and sentencing after that. But then it's something we absolutely can start planning for, along with the wedding, okay?”

Rollins smiled at the thought of that, “the wedding”, something to look forward to. Olivia had always been an expert at making her feel loved, but the reminder that after everything, she still wanted to call the blonde her wife—well, that was supremely convincing. “Okay,” she purred, before letting her lips dance across the older woman’s bare collarbone. She pulled back after a moment, realizing they hadn’t discussed this. “Sorry,” she apologized, her face reddening.

“Oh, baby, you’re fine.” Olivia’s hand patted her back reassuringly. “I would tell you to stop if it wasn’t okay.”

The blonde nodded, sufficiently appeased that she hadn’t done anything wrong, and a comfortable silence settled over the two detectives, hands wandering aimlessly and lips caressing lazily. Olivia broke their reverie after a few minutes, noting that it was getting late and they needed a plan for the next day. “Do you want to come tomorrow and be there for summations? I know you couldn’t be there before you testified, and I’m honestly glad you weren’t there today, but tomorrow might be a good idea. To be there for closing arguments and maybe a verdict.”

“I do want to come, but…”

Benson lightly nudged the younger woman’s chin, encouraging her to make eye contact as they spoke. “But what, my love?”

“What if they don’t return a guilty verdict? I know he’ll come after me again.”

Olivia wrapped both arms around the Amanda, rolling them so the blonde was practically on top of her as she soothed the woman who was struggling not to cry again. “I won’t let that happen. Amanda, I will die before I let that man lay even a finger on you ever again. Ever.”

Amanda sighed, burying her face into the embrace they’d created. “That’s not comforting, honey. If he did to you what he did to me, I think I’d lose it. I’d never forgive myself.”

“Well, we’re not going to have to worry about that, okay?” she assured, sounding less convinced than she’d hoped she would. “This jury is not dumb. They won’t fall for Buchanan’s nonsense.”

“Juries fall for his nonsense all the time.”

“Not this time, ‘Manda.” Olivia pressed her lips into Amanda’s hair, squeezing her tightly, and willing her words to be true. She’d never prayed like this before.

“So help me God.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you celebrate Passover or Easter, I hope you had a happy and safe holiday!  
> Next chapter is the conclusion of the trial. Would love to know what you expect to/want to see happen. Thanks again for reading, and I appreciate reading every comment.  
> -Gabby


	10. Conviction Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.   
> I want to thank candi711 for some legal advice on this chapter, specifically for critiquing my problematic summations. I appreciate your help! I hope everyone is still safe and healthy! We get through this together by staying apart.  
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Conviction Part 2

“Amanda?” 

The pitter-patter of Olivia’s footsteps were usually a comfort, but this morning their meaning was slightly more menacing. It was almost time to go, and by the end of the day, Patton could conceivably be a free man. “I’m in the kitchen,” the blonde called out to her fiancée. 

As she descended the stairs, the older woman’s nostrils were assaulted by the smell of bacon. “How long have you been down here?” Olivia questioned, approaching the other detective.

The brunette quickly kissed Amanda, whose lips tasted of maple syrup. “Long enough to make bacon and pancakes.” She extended a plate towards the other woman, chewing on her lower lip. “I already ate. I wanted to feel useful.”

Liv gave her a soft smile, reaching out to squeeze her bicep with her left hand as she took the dish Amanda offered her with her right. “Well, thank you, baby. You feeling okay today?” she asked, sitting at the kitchen table.

Amanda put on a brave face, steeling herself with a determined nod. “Yeah. I’m good.” She took another few deep breaths as Olivia ate quietly. “There's not going to be a problem with me sitting in the gallery, is there?”

Olivia swallowed a mouthful of pancake. “Why would there be, love?”

The blonde wiped the stove with a damp dish towel, reaching to wipe some hair out of her face with her free hand. “Because I'm a witness,” she explained, “and New York is famously anal about not allowing victims to watch trials.” Liv smirked a little at her fiancée referring to their state of residence as “anal”, but clearly, she got the point. “Obviously, I already testified, and no more evidence is being presented, but the last thing I want to do is jeopardize the trial of this case.”

The older detective nodded in understanding. “Let me text Alex really quick, that way we can be completely sure.” Amanda had already known much about the criminal trial process, working within the system and all, but Olivia couldn’t help but notice how much more knowledgeable she’d become since getting a look at it from the other side of the proverbial lens. She’d been asking Alex in-depth questions, doing her own research late at night, and she’d been objecting to fictional lawyers’ attempts to be argumentative as she watched TV more often than she ever did before. The brunette was witnessing Amanda do whatever she could to gain power in a situation where she was practically powerless. Knowledge is power, or so the saying goes. “Hey, will you come sit down with me for a minute?”

“Yeah.” Amanda emerged from the cooking area of the kitchen, wiping sweat off her brow with the dish towel. “Everything okay?”

“Everything's fine, sweetheart,” the older woman vowed. “I just want to talk to you for a minute.”

“Oh?” Every other time in her life where someone had asked her to “talk for a minute”, something bad had happened. Her mother was in the hospital. Her dad was going to punish her. Kim had been arrested. Patton was calling her into his office. “Okay…?” She didn’t mean for it to come out as a question.

Olivia watched as the blonde sat in a chair next to her, silently giving over all her attention. The more experienced detective could tell her fiancée was nervous, so she casually plopped a hand onto her knee, squeezing gently. “I wanted to tell you that no matter what happens today, or doesn't happen today, we'll figure it out, okay? And I'm so, so proud of you.”

Relief flooded Amanda’s body. She’d wanted to believe Liv when she claimed that nothing was wrong, but physiologically, her earnest words hadn’t been convincing enough. She exhaled easily, leaning her forehead in to touch Olivia’s, a combination of syrup and vanilla wafting over her. “Why are you so good to me?”

“You make it easy.” The brunette pressed her lips against the younger woman’s, a pair of smiles breaking the kiss after a few moments. Olivia checked the notification on her phone when it vibrated.

“Alex?”

The older woman nodded. “She already wrote a motion to allow you to be present for summations and the verdict, on the off chance you wanted to come. Judge okay'd it.”

“Wow, she’s always prepared,” Amanda said, impressed. “You think she was a Girl Scout?”

Liv chuckled heartily. “Not a chance in hell was Alexandra Cabot camping in the woods with a bunch of other little girls.”

“That's too bad,” the blonde sighed. “I bet she could have sold tons of cookies.”

“Now all we can do is hope she can sell this case.” 

It felt as if no time at all had passed before Amanda watched the defense attorney stand up, sauntering slowly toward the jury box and taking a moment to give the survivor a once over.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Buchanan began, sending chills up Amanda’s spine. She turned instantly to the brunette when she felt firm pressure on her thigh. Olivia was wearing her best poker face, but the younger woman could see—and feel—right through it. The squeeze against her slacks wasn’t painful, and it wasn’t even uncomfortable. Liv would never lose herself enough to be capable of hurting Amanda, but it was clear that the hand against her leg was intended to comfort the older detective just as much—if not more—than it was intended to comfort the blonde. Amanda was alive, and her warm body existed just beneath a sweaty hand. No matter how angry Olivia became, that truth was something she could rely on. Amanda was alive, and she was right there. 

Buchanan interrupted the younger woman’s psychoanalysis of her fiancée. “I'll leave you with these words before you are charged with deciding the fate of my client, sex crimes Deputy Chief Charles Patton. Ms. Cabot is about to make her closing statement, and she would have you believe that this is a black and white issue, that it is provable—what happened in that warehouse on that day. But the truth is that the people have not proven beyond all reasonable doubt that the encounter between Chief Patton and Detective Rollins was not consensual in nature because there is no way to do so. The doctor that treated Ms. Rollins that day said exactly that, that her injuries were not inconsistent with that of consensual sex, but that there was no way to be sure either way.”

Amanda’s hand traveled to rest on top of the brunette’s, offering a gentle squeeze as her fingers trembled against the other woman’s skin, and her eyes moved to examine Alex’s body language. It was clear that the attorney was struggling to exude confidence and professionalism. The ADA believed wholeheartedly that she had won this case. But she also knew that an effective—or lackluster—summation could sway the jury, even if it wasn’t supposed to. The youngest of the three women watched Alex take in Buchanan for a moment, her gaze intense, and Amanda could tell it was also hateful. The prosecutor tried at first to remain objective, to treat this case like any other, but the moment it became about the very nature of consent, all that was over. Who was she kidding? Her objectivity was over the moment she walked into the police station, asking about Amanda’s whereabouts. 

“The people also have not proven that their timeline of events is indeed the way things unfolded on the day in question. As you deliberate today, I implore you all to remember this. In criminal trials, the prosecution has the ultimate burden of proof. That means the only way a jury should ever find a defendant guilty is if it can be proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that the people's theory of the crime is what actually occurred. Because the burden of proof for a conviction has not been met, you must acquit. You must find the defendant not guilty.”

As Buchanan elected to not conceal a self-satisfied smile, Alex remained in her seat for several long seconds, allowing the defense’s arguments to settle over the crowd. She was creating tension, setting up the contrast between the two parties. Eventually, she stood up, offering no warning before launching herself out of her seat and sprinting around her desk, coming to stand immediately outside the jury box and resting her hands on the railing. “Good morning, members of the jury.”

How Alex went from projecting a death glare from her cold blue eyes to sounding genuinely pleasant was beyond both detectives’ understanding. After the greeting, the lawyer took a singular deep breath, allowing for a moment her fingers to tap the railing separating the twelve jurors from the remainder of the courtroom. She stepped back, beginning her quintessential pace and talk, or as Amanda had begun to call it, her “spin and win”. “Mr. Buchanan's contention,” she claimed, locking eyes with each member of the jury as she spoke, “is that because Amanda Rollins did not explicitly say no to the defendant's advances, we can never really know whether or not consent was given in the time between the texts and Chief Patton's arrest. This is blatantly false.”

The prosecutor let herself question for a fleeting instant whether she had ever been this passionate during a summation. It was unlikely. Alex often wrote outlines for her closing arguments, editing them at the last minute to address whatever her opponent would spew, but this time, she’d barely been able to get more than “members of the jury” written down on her legal notepad before violently crossing out the scribbled words, starting over a total of nine times before giving up. She’d come to court today entirely unprepared. This case had shaken the ADA to her very core, and she feared she’d made a fatal mistake. Then, she reminded herself that the evidence was on her side. She inhaled once more, striding towards the jury box and leaning over the wooden railing. She spoke slowly, and her words were measured, certain. 

“The quote-on-quote 'consent’ the detective gave was in response to a threat. Detective Rollins was coerced by her former supervisor, physically assaulted, and chemically incapacitated. I’ll remind you all of the relevant statute. In the state of New York, rape in the first degree occurs when an individual engages in sexual intercourse with another person by forcible compulsion, while this other person is incapable of consent by reason of being physically helpless, or if said person is a child. Detective Rollins was forcibly compelled because Chief Patton threatened the physical safety of another individual, and she was physically helpless because she had been paralyzed. This satisfies two of the three possible conditions for a rape one conviction, the other being the age of the victim, which is not relevant in this case. The defense has tried to tell you, ‘Well, she didn’t say no.’ Members of the jury, allow me to set the record straight. The only reason Detective Rollins didn't say no before the assault is the defendant forcibly compelled her by threatening Detective Olivia Benson, her domestic partner. The only reason she didn't say no during the assault is that the defendant, Charles Patton, rendered her physically helpless, incapable of giving consent. And now, after the assault—you all have the opportunity Detective Rollins didn't at the time. You have the power here. You don't have to let him get away with this. The defense is asking you to believe that the people have not proven beyond any reasonable doubt that Detective Rollins did not consent to sex on the day in question, and here is what I am asking you to believe. There is only one verdict that is supported by the law and the facts in this case. By the definition the defendant himself offered us, Detective Rollins did not ever consent to sexual contact. What Chief Patton did to Detective Rollins is the very definition of rape in the first degree. There is no doubt about it. The defendant is guilty.”

As the courtroom cleared out, Alex found the two detectives sitting in the lobby. The brunette stood up as the people’s counsel approached. “Alex,” she addressed. “That summation was—thank you.”

The attorney gave a swift nod. “I think it may be a while, so…get comfortable.” 

Amanda shifted in her seat. “Which way do you think it’s gonna go?”

Alex hated being asked that. If she could read the jurors’ minds, her job would be infinitely less difficult and abundantly more straight-forward. But she didn’t blame her complaining witness for asking it. They always did. And besides, if anyone had an accurate guess, it was probably the prosecutor. “It's hard to say. I think the jury believes you, but it's hard to prove circumstantially what exactly the order of events were. There may be a few jurors who want to err on the side of caution, and it's hard to push affirmative consent without a precedent. That being said, it would be basically impossible to refute the significance of the text message, as it bolsters our claim and practically destroys Buchanan’s. But he doesn’t have the burden of proof, and that's what worries me.”

Amanda’s head bobbed as she attempted to control the speed of her inhale. “Hey, Alex?” The ADA gestured for her to continue. “Thank you for not treating me with kid gloves. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Alex was nothing if not honest. “Always.” 

Soon, Amanda excused herself to the bathroom, gently not accepting her fiancée’s offer to walk her to the ladies’ room. She just needed to be alone for a little while. As soon as the blonde was out of sight, Alex’s demeaner changed. The rod keeping her back straight slackened and her stoic exterior crumbled. The detective knew what was happening. “I swear to God Olivia, if they don't convict him, I'm going to have an aneurysm.” She vibrated her hands over both temples for effect.

“Alex,” Olivia reasoned, “no matter what happens, you have to try and stay calm.”

The anxious attorney scoffed, a bitter smile sharpening her features. “Or what? You'll hit me with a rock for my own good?”

Olivia took a deep breath before reaching for both of the other woman’s hands, attempting to ground her. “Alex,” she sighed. She knew the ADA was likely the only other person in the world who understood her own frustration, and her quip about the rock all but proved that. The attorney and the two detectives were powerful, confident women (at least on the job) who were living in a man’s world, a world where “I hit her with a rock to calm her down” could feasibly be seen as an appropriate defense, a world where the law still often reflected the view that the absence of a “no” equated the presence of a “yes”, a world where Amanda Rollins, the victim of a brutal crime, still felt as if she needed to put on a stronger face than her fiancée and friend. The truth is the attorney and the brunette were both losing it in that moment, and Olivia knew she needed to reel them both back in before Amanda returned. “Amanda hates the anger,” Olivia reminded. “If they come back with not guilty, we need to focus on her, okay?”

“Liv, I've never in my life been so angry at a defendant.” She ripped a single hand out of the older woman’s secure hold and flailed it wildly about in the miniscule space between them. “You know how in the movies witnesses and lawyers climb over the railing to beat each other up?” Olivia nodded. “I wanted to do that yesterday. That's why I asked for the recess.”

“Alex, I'm angry too. Every time Amanda cries or has a nightmare, my first response is to be angry. But we can't lose sight of why we're angry. We can't lose sight of what matters. You've done all you can as a prosecutor, and you've done an incredible job. Now it's time to be a friend.”

“I know.” Alex stepped away from the other woman after a moment, letting her fingers rub the tension from her forehead. “I just…” Would this be a good time to fess up about something the ADA had been struggling with for many years, something she’d been wanting to tell the two women for months? No. Of course this wasn’t a good time. There would never be a good time. “...really want to put that bastard away.”

“Me too, Al.” The two women stood together in silence for several moments, and then Olivia chose to offer up a distraction. “Hey, can I ask you a question about something that happened yesterday? It came up with Amanda, and she made a good point. Defendants can't plead the fifth if they choose to testify, and obviously Patton is knowledgeable about the law, so why did he even try?”

Alex sighed, appreciating the change in subject. Any excuse to discuss trial procedure was warranted in her book. There was nothing like the sterile, clinical, legal comfort of cold, unbiased law. "I was a bit confused about why that happened myself, but I wouldn't be surprised if Buchanan is so full of himself that he instructed his client to say whatever and try everything, especially if he was beginning to think that his rebuttal might not be so strong."

"That's exactly what Amanda said, actually."

"Astute of her to pick up on that,” Alex commended, a genuine smile appearing on her lips. “Is she after my job?"

Meanwhile in the bathroom, the ticking of the clock was becoming louder than Amanda could very well take. Her ears throbbed and her eyes watered. Yes, she had locked herself in the bathroom stall herself, but she still felt cornered, trapped. There was no getting out of this. The verdict was going to happen. What could she do to take back some power?

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Four seconds.

Breathe. This day would end eventually.

Fifteen seconds. Sixteen seconds. Seventeen seconds. Eighteen seconds.

Breathe. Olivia wasn’t going to leave.

Thirty-two seconds. Thirty-three seconds. Thirty-four seconds. Thirty-five seconds.

Breathe. Tick, tick, tick.

Ninety-nine seconds. One hundred seconds. One hundred one seconds. One hundred two seconds.

Breathe. Think about something else. Tick, tick, tick. The seashells. The seashells at the beach. The sound of the ocean. Laughter. Peace.

Two hundred nine seconds. Two hundred ten seconds. Two hundred eleven seconds. Two hundred twelve seconds.

Breathe. Amanda had no choice about whether this would happen, but she did have a choice about how to respond to it. She didn’t need to hide in this bathroom stall, cringing at each abrasive tick of the clock. No one was forcing her to stay there.

Four hundred thirty-one seconds. Four hundred thirty-two seconds. Four hundred thirty-three seconds. Four hundred thirty-four seconds.

Breathe. And maybe that was just an illusion of choice. Maybe Amanda was simply deciding to passively accept an unavoidable reality, to speak her truth, to continue existing. But wasn’t there power in that? Wasn’t there power in waltzing out of the bathroom and proudly going to sit with Olivia as they waited for a verdict that would change their lives? Wasn’t there power in surviving? In living?

Three thousand two hundred seventy-three seconds. That’s how long Amanda had waited for rescue—or death—after Patton had uttered his parting words to her. Three thousand two hundred seventy-three seconds of powerlessness.

Tick, tick, tick.

A voice from the hallway. “Amanda? Are you okay in there?”

Once again, it was rescue that greeted her, and not death. “I’m fine, Liv. Is the jury back?”

“No, baby,” a somber voice replied. “Alex went to go grab some food for us, and she asked me to find out if you wanted anything.”

“Olivia, if they come back not guilty, I’m gonna vomit all over the courtroom floor. Probably better it’s not an entire ham sandwich.”

Now a knock at the door of the stall. “How about some soup?”

The blonde did feel a little bit cold, and at least it wouldn’t be chunky coming back up. “Yeah, that sounds fine. Tell her thank you.”

Amanda actually managed to finish the soup, sitting quietly with Olivia. Alex had opted to eat alone in her office. She had other cases to prepare for, and truth be told, she just wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to maintain composure if the jury continued to deliberate into the late afternoon.

And that they did, the younger detective becoming more frustrated by the second. “What the hell is taking them so long, Liv?”

The brunette reached out to rest a hand on the woman’s upper back, letting her fingers glide up and down. The ADA had placed them in a private room once she’d returned with lunch, knowing Amanda would need to be in a place where she’d allow Olivia to comfort her. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” she admitted. “But try and stay calm. I know it’s hard.” She knew it was hard because with every minute that passed by, she felt her own blood pressure rising, her own lunch revisiting her esophagus, her own breathing accelerate. It was hard for her too.

“What if they’re deadlocked? I don’t think I could handle another trial.”

Olivia hadn’t considered a mistrial prior to the blonde’s words. “One second at a time,” she repeated their mantra.

Amanda nodded. Tick, tick, tick. 

Both women jumped when the door opened suddenly to reveal Alex, who had immaculately put Humpty Dumpty back together again. “The jury’s back,” she announced, lingering just long enough to see the detectives rise from their seats before bounding down the hallway.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?”

“We have, your honor.”

How many times had Amanda heard that exchange in her life? More times than she’d ever let herself count. But that number had power. Exactly what kind, the detective hadn’t yet determined for herself.

A court officer handed the piece of paper with Patton’s fate on it to the judge for a brief moment and then he handed it off to the jury foreman. Olivia gave Amanda one last comforting smile as her hand wrapped around the younger woman’s. “No matter what happens…” she reminded.

“In the sole charge of the indictment, rape in the first degree, how do you find?”

“We find the defendant, Charles Patton…”

Whoosh! The sound of the ocean penetrated Amanda’s ears, and all other sounds became muffled.

Did the jury have a choice here, or, like her, simply the illusion of a choice?

She glanced up at the clock on one of the walls. Tick, tick, tick.

Three thousand two hundred seventy-three seconds.

The waves released her with a crash, and suddenly Amanda was back in the courtroom.

“…guilty.”

“Officers, please take the defendant into custody pending sentencing.”

Peace.

Alex quickly stood and stepped to Buchanan, offering him a handshake, which he returned out of a sense of obligation. The ADA next turned her attention to Amanda, who was waiting to pull the other blonde into a hug. “Thank you so much.”

At the detective’s grateful expression, Alex shook her head. “Girlfriend, you did all the heavy lifting.”

The prosecutor handed Amanda off to Olivia, who eagerly took the younger woman into her arms. Amanda wasn’t quite sure why she wasn’t crying. She certainly wouldn’t have been ashamed of it. It actually looked like Alex was closer to tears than she was.

Munch, Amaro and Fin, who’d shown up to hear the verdict after a long day at SVU, approached the trio of women. The older man spoke. “We’re gonna go get a drink. Do you guys want to come with us?”

Amanda, feeling five sets of eyes on her, glanced at her phone. It was almost five p.m. “You guys go,” she suggested, her gaze lingering on Olivia. “Some time alone in the apartment actually sounds really good right now.”

“Are you sure?” the brunette checked.

“Yeah. Yeah,” she stressed, “go, get out of the house, hang out with our friends. You deserve some time, Liv.”

The older woman nodded. “Okay, but let me take you home first.” Amanda knew it wasn’t an offer, and she really did want to see her fiancée let loose a little now that they both knew that Patton wasn’t going to be released, so she acceded to the gentle request. 

“I have some formalities to tend to here, but I can join after,” Alex said. She often told herself that offers for the team to hang out didn’t extend to her, mostly because even after knowing some of these people for more than ten years, she still wasn’t quite sure how to function in a friend group. But the prosecutor wasn’t stupid. She knew this invite absolutely applied to her, especially as it seemed like it would be a celebratory outing. 

“I’ll let you both know where we end up,” Fin assured Olivia and Alex, giving Amanda a light pat on the arm. “Congratulations, Amanda. You did good. Now get some rest.”

The blonde detective offered him a small smile before allowing her fiancée to lead her out of the courtroom. As the next several hours went by, Amanda found herself feeling numb. It was after eight when the first tears fell from her eyes as she curled up on Liv’s side of the bed. She made no effort to halt her crying as her fiancée entered their apartment. Amanda heard Olivia stop at the entrance to their bedroom, the threshold serving as a good enough vantage point to make an impression of the situation.

“Oh, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” It only took a few seconds for the brunette to realize she wasn’t peacefully sleeping, and she approached the bed in a hurry, sitting next to Amanda but still keeping some space until she figured out what was going on. 

That’s when the guilt hit, and along with the confusion, she wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry, Liv.”

Even guilty verdicts can be triggering, the older woman reminded herself. “Sorry for what, love?”

“I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m…I’m happy. I’m relieved. I really am okay. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Though she was still producing tears, the blonde was also chuckling lightly at herself. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, my sweet ‘Manda. Nothing at all. The last six months have been intense, and you need release.” When she said nothing, the brunette continued. “Is this why you didn’t want to come out with us?”

Amanda nodded, wiping away the last of her tears. “I felt it coming, and I didn’t want to feel like I needed to hold back. It was easier to cry alone. I’m glad you’re here now though. Did you have fun?” she asked after a few moments.

“I did.” The brunette laid her hand over the other woman’s side, letting her thumb stroke just below where her ribcage ended. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.” Amanda was certain. She just needed a good cry, and she felt better now. “Like you said, I just needed to let it all go.” She sat up, leaning her head into Liv’s shoulder. “Tell me about drinks. Did Fin get drunk? Does Alex even drink alcohol?”

Olivia kissed her fiancée’s temple, right over the faded scar that was now only noticeable if you were looking for it. “Yes, Fin got drunk. So did Amaro. John took them both home. Alex nursed a glass of tonic water all night.”

“Just tonic water?”

“Mhm. Why?”

Amanda looked up at Olivia. “Is she okay?” she murmured, for the first time noticing just how tired she was. 

The brunette furrowed her brow. “Of course she is,” Liv said obviously. “She won the case. She’s thrilled.”

“No, I mean,” Amanda corrected, “in general. Is she okay?”

Olivia felt like she was missing something. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

“I don’t know.” The younger detective shrugged her shoulders. I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s a lot about Alex she intentionally keeps from us. I don’t blame her for it, I mean, I’m the last person who would judge someone for having secrets, but she’s definitely an enigma.”

Liv sighed. “You don’t choose SVU without a story,” she surmised. 

You don’t leave without one either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For the remainder of this story, I plan on responding to every user review, so if you have an account, check your replies and if you are a guest, feel free to get an account! I've said before that I consider you all to be my betas, so if there's anything you want addressed before the story comes to a close, please let me know. There are four chapters left, and I already have the skeletons of them all written, but I'm happy to add. Be safe!


	11. Sentencing Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.   
> I recently posted a one-shot that exists in the Something Good universe called I Can Wait. It is a mega prequel (haha, meaning it takes places even before the other prequel to Something Good, The Rose) So if you haven’t read Something Good, you should go ahead and read that. (Also, both one-shots will make sense even if you haven’t read Something Good, so if you want a read with less time commitment, those will be great!)  
> Trigger warning on this chapter for discussion of sexual assault related triggers. I hope everyone is still safe and healthy! We get through this together by staying apart.  
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Sentencing Part 1

On Christmas Eve morning, Olivia found her fiancée in the living room, typing away on her laptop. “Merry Christmas Eve,” she greeted lightly from behind the couch, and Amanda hurriedly leaned her head backwards for an upside-down kiss. This casual intimacy was everything the woman had been craving, and now that it had been almost four weeks since the guilty verdict, Olivia seemed more relaxed.

The sight of Amanda brought a smile to her face, and the focused frown and furrowing of her eyebrows as she composed the document on her screen melted her heart. The blonde was Olivia’s favorite nerd, her concentration letting the tip of her tongue protrude out of the corner of her mouth for a moment after the kiss before she finally spoke. 

“Merry Christmas Eve,” she repeated distractedly, patting the couch next to her as an invitation for Olivia to sit.

“Whatcha doin’?” The brunette attempted to ask casually as she joined Amanda on the couch, struggling to keep her voice nonchalant as her fiancée’s eyes bore into the computer screen, and the older woman was trying her hardest not to read what the other detective was typing. When she didn’t get a response, she tried again. “What did your laptop ever do to you, sweetness?”

The lighthearted term of endearment garnered the younger woman’s attention, and she finally looked up. “Oh, I’m workin’ on my victim allocution.”

“You decided to make a statement at the hearing instead of having it included in the pre-sentencing report?” Last time they’d spoken about this, Amanda was leaning towards simply writing out a statement that the judge would read prior to sentencing.

Amanda nodded, tucking a piece of blonde hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I just feel like it’s important enough that I need to stay it out loud. Does that make sense?”

“Sure, it does.”

“I know I have more than a week,” Amanda acknowledged, “but with Christmas and our anniversary being tomorrow, and then New Year, I don’t want to be focusing on this during the holidays, so I want to get it done. I’m just struggling to find words.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Amanda sighed, knowing her love wouldn’t react positively to the statement she was about to make. “You know, the idea of this is just weird to me. I'm kinda used to seeing sex as a bartering tool. My mom did it all the time.”

“Okay…” Olivia replied slowly, predictably, “but sex exchanged for drugs is a little different than 'sex' exchanged for my life.”

Rollins pushed her computer to the side and raked her fingernails over her scalp. “Is it though? I mean, my mom never felt like she had a choice. And sometimes she'd agree to sex with my dad to avoid him beating her. That trade-off was all I knew as a kid, and I started doin’ it myself as a teenager. I mean, this wasn’t chronic abuse. It happened once. I'm not naïve,” she swore in response to the look her fiancée was giving her. “I know that what Patton did to me was a crime, and I'm gonna be experiencing the effects of that crime for the rest of my life. But telling him about it in court still sorta feels wrong to me.” 

Liv thought for a moment. She knew it was never productive to invalidate Amanda’s thoughts, even if they were somewhat illogical. “Well, you don't have to do it.” Sticking to the statement itself was probably the strategy that would have the best result.

The younger detective shrugged, leaning back against the couch cushion. “I sorta feel a responsibility though.”

The brunette’s head bobbed up and down for a few moments as she pondered what to tell her conflicted future wife. “Can I risk becoming a broken record here?” 

“Sure.” Olivia often told Amanda the same things she told the survivors they worked with every day. On some level, it annoyed the blonde because she hated thinking of herself as a victim and she hated feeling bad for herself, but she also deeply appreciated her fiancée turning on her Detective Benson superpowers because she did know that everything the woman told her was true, and her loving words always offered a much needed shift in perspective.

“Having these feelings about questioning the severity of what you suffered is normal, common even. You’ve seen it. I’ve seen it. Almost every survivor does it.” She began to cite the reasons many of their vics didn’t see what they’d gone through as assault. “‘Maybe he didn’t hear me say no.’ ‘I’m a man, I’m supposed to want it.’ ‘He just used his hand.’ ‘It only hurt a little.’ ‘He’s my boyfriend.’ ‘We’d had sex before.’ ‘He only groped my breast.’ Sound familiar?” She raised her eyebrow in order to check for recognition in Amanda’s features. She offered a sheepish nod. “I think it’s how we protect ourselves. After Sealview, I held on so tightly to the fact that Harris hadn’t raped me, that I didn’t let myself grieve what he did do.…” She took a deep breath. “I was assaulted. I thought I was going to die. I had a right to be upset about that. I deserved my own compassion. Just like you deserve yours now.”

Amanda cradled the older woman’s cheek with one of her hands, her thumb ghosting over the semi-flushed skin, a delicate effort to provide comfort. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, baby. I hate the thought that he put his hands on you. If he wasn’t already doing life, I—”

Benson interrupted her, gingerly pulling the blonde’s hand away from her face and holding it tightly with both of hers. “My point is, love, I will never be able to completely relate to what you’re going through. But I know without a doubt that it’s significant. You deserve justice, and you deserve to ask the court for that justice.”

“I guess speaking about the heinous nature of the crime sounds difficult. Maybe I’m just tired of spouting cold facts.”

“Well, then don’t discuss the facts,” Olivia suggested before kissing warmth into each of Amanda’s cool knuckles. “The judge will have access to all the evidence presented at trial. Don’t talk about what Patton did to you. Talk about how it still affects you today, about how your life is different. Don’t be afraid to turn on the pathos, honey. You know Patton will. You don’t owe me or Alex or the state of New York anything. Just…say what you’re comfortable with.”

Amanda nodded in agreement, both women taking a few seconds to just be together. There was so much she could tell the sentencing judge. So much was relevant. And if she were being totally honest, she wasn’t even after vengeance. Patton could do life at a ski resort for all she cared, as long as he didn’t have access to Olivia. But the only way to accomplish that was maximum sentencing, and the blonde would have to convince the judge that the full twenty-five years was warranted.

As Liv bent forward to retrieve Amanda’s lukewarm cup of coffee, she noticed an open envelope she hadn’t seen before. “What's this on the table?” she asked, gesturing to the paper.

“Oh,” Amanda blurted, remembering she’d meant to bring it up earlier, “it's a hospital bill. The rape kit is on there.”

Liv picked it up, her whole face scrunching together as she pondered the ridiculousness of what she was reading. Law enforcement had strongly suggested, for lack of a better phrase, that Amanda get the kit prepared, and then insurance had the audacity to charge her for what was essentially an invasive—and medically unnecessary—bodily excavation. “The state is supposed to pay for that.”

The younger detective knew that already. “Well, our employer-based insurance fucked up. I'm sure we can get out of this. I mean, it's gotta be a mistake, but the healthcare system in this country is atrocious.”

Amanda had been deeply opinionated for her entire life, to an extent, but Olivia had always known the blonde to keep views like this to herself unless it was absolutely necessary to disclose them. Liv actually delighted in this statement. For months after her assault, Amanda had been a shell of herself, numb to the world around her, hardly reacting to the news. It was a breath of fresh air to see her this indignant over a hospital bill. “This situation has certainly radicalized you,” the brunette observed, using the list of charges to give her a good-natured swat to the knee.

The younger detective stealthily stole the piece of paper from her fiancée’s clutches, an incredulous smirk tipping the corners of her lips upwards. “You wanna pay this bill?” 

Olivia didn’t even entertain the question that was clearly rhetorical. “I’ll call after the holidays,” she announced, temporarily washing her hands of the situation as she watched Amanda pull her laptop in front of her once again. 

“So, before I started writing my statement, I was looking at that information Dr. Jones sent me about making a trigger plan in preparation for having sex again. Remember?” 

“Mhm,” the brunette recalled, attempting to take a sip of the caffeinated beverage that still rested on the table in front of her, recoiling at the less than ideal temperature.

“I know you just woke up, but is this something you’d be interested in doing with me?”

“I didn’t just wake up.” A poorly concealed yawn gave away her lie. “You want to do it right now?” Liv stood up, carrying the mug with her into the kitchen. She was going to need a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

“It’s not a good time, is it?” Rollins called over the island that separated the living room from where the brunette was pressing buttons on their Keurig. “I mean, we have so much going on, and it’s not even all that important.”

“No, sweetheart. It is important. It’s very important. Especially if you want a break from working on your statement, I think it would be a very productive use of our morning.”

Amanda nodded, placing her computer down once more and hugging her knees to her chest as the other woman plopped herself back down next to her, warming her hands on the mug she held. It was a pretty straight-forward procedure, and she was hoping the hug she was giving herself would be soothing. “Are you sure?” The question came out in a meek whisper, and she realized that Liv would interpret this as hesitation on her part. She didn’t expect the process to be fun, but if she and the beautiful woman by her side were ever going to reclaim sex as a part of their lives, she knew it was a necessary evil.

Benson gave her a comforting smile and a small nod. They hadn’t explicitly discussed triggers yet, and she was a little nervous herself. Amanda wasn’t an open book, and the most detail she’d ever given the brunette about what Patton had done to her was indirectly, the statement she gave as a witness being intended for the jurors. Olivia just happened to be in the courtroom at the time, and she had promised the blonde that she would never ask her to talk about those things again. She worried that Amanda was biting off more than she could chew. “It’s been a few years since I’ve discussed trigger plans in detail. Is it still compiling a list of potential triggers and then a list of things that can ground you in the moment?”

“Yeah.” Amanda wanted to sound confident, sure, prepared, but her voice cracked at the most inopportune time. “Piece of cake,” she added, her tone slightly stronger, but the experienced detective saw right through it. 

Olivia clapped her hand over Amanda’s knee, her fingers moving in tight, firm circles for a few seconds. “If this conversation gets too overwhelming….” She trailed off.

The younger woman nodded. She knew the deal. “I’ll ask for a break if I need one. I’m just wanting to make some progress, especially since I’m feelin’ like I’m almost ready, but only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“I’m comfortable talking to you about anything,” the brunette vowed. “Let me grab my notepad,” she thought aloud, bounding to the front door and rummaging through her work bag. “That way all you have to do is talk, and I’ll write the broad strokes. You good with that?” she concluded, curling up on the couch opposite Amanda. 

A barely-there nod was all the blonde could offer Olivia. The older woman knew how much this meant to her fiancée—and she’d be lying if she tried to say she didn’t miss the contact, which is why she opted for silence as a general rule—but she could see the hesitation in her eyes. A sex-related trigger plan had to be specific by nature. Otherwise, there would be no roadmap at all for where the two could travel. That meant Amanda would have to discuss detailed activities that she thought had the potential to feel unsafe. Behind the hesitation though, as both pairs of earnest eyes stared through the other, Olivia saw unadulterated trust reflected in ocean-blue pools. “When you’re ready,” she calmly directed, “tell me anything that comes to mind. You’re leading us through this process. Only go where you feel safe to.”

“Um,” the blonde began wearily, a reassuring nod being sent in her direction. “Any sort of restraint—I wouldn’t be okay with that.”

Understandable. The older woman wrote dutifully on the same pad she used to take victims’ statements. The couple had never been into bondage, and now that she thought about it, Olivia realized that   
Amanda had always been extremely selective about which sex acts they did together. Being a respectful partner, she never prodded the woman too harshly about it, but it was one of those 20/20 moments. “Would that include me being on top you?”

Rollins shrugged. “I don’t know that for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised. I think it’s something we’d have to try.”

Compassionate eyes looked up to meet nervous ones. “Okay if I write it down anyway?”

“Sure.” Both women were quiet for several seconds before their eyes met again. “Oral.” Liv’s lips parted to ask a follow-up question, but it wasn’t necessary. “Receiving. Givin’s fine.”

After she’d written the newest item down, Liv looked up to see her fiancée taking slow, intentional breaths, her eyes closed as her fingernails dug into her thighs. “Hey,” she cooed, quickly scooting forward to stop Amanda’s assault on herself. The last thing they needed if the blonde was already panicking was for the younger woman to draw blood. “You still with me, love?” With one hand she tenderly restrained both sets of fingers, and with the other she massaged the thigh that was more heavily marred with angry half-moons.

“Yeah, yeah,” Amanda assured, her eyes clearing in response to the sound of Liv’s voice. “Oral is…definitely a trigger,” she confirmed. “I’m…okay,” she breathed out, her lips forming an “O”. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. “Let’s just move on.”

Olivia distracted her fiancée’s hands by absently playing with each finger, intentionally keeping the digits from marking the otherwise pale skin. “We can stop, you know,” the brunette offered.

“No, I’m good.” She didn’t want Olivia to think it was the conversation itself that had been anxiety-inducing. The truth was most of the sexual activities the blonde flipped through in her mind felt appealing to her, a warm ache making itself known between her legs, and she had been entirely calm until the thought of oral sex had permeated her mind. Nothing else that Patton had done to her had been so totally violating.

And those words.

As if she hadn’t spent her entire life reconciling her upbringing with her undeniable attraction to women.

As if she hadn’t already struggled to let Olivia so close.

As if the Deputy Chief hadn’t already done enough.

Enough. “I can think of one more thing to add to the list for now,” she pushed through the residual anxiety. Patton was in New York state custody. Olivia was practically holding her. She was in the safest place in the world. She could do this. The brunette nodded expectantly, letting one hand retreat from the younger detective’s skin in order to pick up the notepad she’d been using. “We should probably hold off on penetration for a while.” Amanda wanted to chuckle bitterly at herself. What were their other options? She was basically saying, “Yes, we can have sex, but there is only one thing we can do. Should be fun!”

Olivia’s thoughts were completely dissimilar to her fiancée’s. She’d, with minimal support, pulled herself out of a flashback, and that was something the blonde should be proud off. A triumphant smile graced the older woman’s lips. “You did so good!” she praised. She wasn’t at all fazed by Amanda’s limitations. They all made complete sense, and of course the only way Liv would enjoy having sex with her is if the other woman felt absolutely safe. “Do you feel up to discussing some things that would ground you in the case you become triggered by something we didn’t expect?”

“Yeah, I um…” she paused to take a breath. “I’ve actually been thinking about this one, thinking about the things you do that make me feel safe.” At these words, Olivia smiled so lovingly at her that it almost took her breath away. The brunette scooted even closer to the woman she loved, waiting patiently for her to continue. “If I ever ask you to stop,” she began, earning a nod of understanding, “do you think you can verbally tell me that you stopped? I think if I’m caught up in the moment, hearing you say that you’re not touching me anymore might be helpful.”

“Absolutely.”

“Also, remind me that I can move. It’s been this thing I’ve noticed—when I panic, I freeze. I never froze in fear before….” She didn’t finish the thought. “I used to be a fight person, in the fight-flight-freeze continuum. Not anymore. It’s like this all-consuming feeling of powerlessness.”

Olivia had stopped writing, but she was absorbing her love’s words like a sponge. “So, really ensure that you know I’m not touching you once you’ve asked me to stop and make sure you know you have power over your body. Is that right?” she confirmed, her pointer finger drawing circles over the area of Amanda’s stomach that wasn’t covered by her tank top. She’d hesitated to initiate the contact at first, but the blonde had pulled her hand back to her body and placed it flush against her abdomen. This is what she’d meant about missing casual touch, and Liv eagerly gave into it, laying her head down on the area where red crescents were fading. 

A relieved nod. Olivia understood. She always understood. “Anything else?” a soft voice questioned from below. “Would you like me to move completely away from you, or is there a type of touch that you think would usually be okay?”

“Uh.” Before she could respond in full, the brunette’s phone vibrated in her pocket, and she released a surprised yelp. 

“It’s Alex,” she said. “She’s in the area and wants to know if she can come talk to us about sentencing.” Of course Alex Cabot had nothing better to do on Christmas Eve. “Is that okay with you? You must be tired.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Amanda’s hand travelled below the other woman’s loose T-Shirt, warming itself on the hot flesh of her upper back. “We should be done in a few minutes.”

Olivia hummed at the contact. “Where were we?” she asked after some silence, melting into the embrace of her lover. God, how she missed being this close.

“You asked if it was okay to touch me during a trigger,” she reminded, lightly scratching the olive skin under her hand. Amanda’s fingers were always so cold, and this was the quickest fix. “I really think it depends,” she shrugged. “Your touch usually calms me, but I wish I could assure you it would always be a good idea…”

“No, it’s okay,” the older woman interrupted, squeezing tightly to the blonde’s waist. “We’ll have to edit this list over time because anxiety is an incredibly dynamic thing, but I don’t want you to be discouraged by us having to add things to the trigger list. We’ll probably be able to take some things off of it as well.”

Amanda didn’t feel the need to respond. She struggled to bend her body in half in attempt to kiss the other woman’s head. Vanilla shampoo. The smell of safety.

Knock, knock, knock.

At the small jump Olivia felt from the woman below her, she pressed a series of quick kisses to both of her thighs and her lower stomach. “It’s just Alex, my love,” she whispered, reminding herself of Amanda’s earlier requests. Touch usually helps. Words always help.

Amanda’s first impression of ADA Cabot that day was that she was sleeping better than she’d had in months. You and me both, sister! After a few minutes of casual conversation, the talk turned to business.

“How explicit should I be?” the blonde detective asked when the subject of her statement was introduced.

“I think that’s ultimately up to your discretion, Amanda.” Alex was granting her free reign. “Your testimony was rather detailed, and it affected the jury considerably. You’re welcome to be as emotional or as factual as feels right for you.”

“Okay,” Amanda nodded, a monster of a yawn involuntarily distorting the word.

“Baby, do you need to take a nap?” Liv questioned, rubbing the younger woman’s shoulder.

“No, I’m good. Let me just lie down.”

Olivia patted her lap, gesturing for Alex to toss her a pillow, which she did dumbfoundedly. “Guys, if this isn’t a good time—”

“No, Alex, stay,” Amanda insisted lethargically, letting her fiancée guide her head down onto the pillow. “You guys talk. I like the noise.” It was more than she meant to give away, the petrifying terror that silence caused in her. It had been so quiet in the warehouse once Patton had left. The only sound remaining was her own shallow breathing. Voices were soothing. And the voices of two people that she cared for were deeply soothing.

She was out moments after she felt Olivia’s gentle fingers tangle into her hair. 

New Year came and went in a flash, and once again, the couple found themselves in the courthouse where it all began, joined by the fiery prosecutor who had gotten them this far.

Though Alex chose not to include Patton’s prior bad acts in order to establish a pattern in the criminal trial, she did opt to give the judge more details about the harassment Amanda faced in Atlanta. This went by quickly enough, and eventually the blonde was asked to give her statement.

She stood slowly, clearing her throat. She’d prepared something succinct, short, meaningful, and hopefully persuasive. Only time would tell. “Your honor, six months ago I was a successful SVU detective living a comfortable life with my girlfriend, who I love dearly. I went to the movies, ran before work. Despite my career, I felt relatively safe. That changed June twenty-first of last year. On that day, Charles Patton re-entered my life and changed it irrevocably—again. I could have died from traumatic blood loss due to my injuries, and until this day, the sight of my own blood makes my heart skip a beat. I panic when my period is late, and I panic when it isn’t. I’m in a committed relationship, and I haven’t been physically intimate with my fiancée in more than six months. I have to learn how to have sex again, how to feel safe. Sometimes Olivia tells me that she loves me, and I don’t believe her. I don’t go out at night, and I never go out alone. I hate the darkness. Sleeping is a chore. I hate loud noises and I hate the quiet. My life will never be the same because of what Charles Patton did to me. I will get through this, and I will be okay eventually. But I’m not okay now, and I haven’t been since Charles Patton raped me. Thank you, your honor, for taking these words into account when you hand down sentencing.”

Though Liv generally chose to be discreet in public, especially in court, she couldn’t help but pull the now seated woman into an awkward side-hug. The judge needed to hear those words, and Amanda had beautifully and eloquently explained her struggle.

Patton’s words were markedly more brief and much less sincere. “What this has been all about is an incredibly unfortunate case of miscommunication, and I deeply regret that. I’m a good man, your honor. I’ve served the city of Atlanta for many, many years, putting sexual predators away. I am not one of them, and I do not deserve to rot in prison like one of them.” 

Were those actual tears? 

Maybe he was just sorry he got caught.

Twenty-five years. 

The social construct of time was about to become very real for Charles Patton.

Twenty-five years was exponentially longer than three thousand two hundred seventy-three seconds.

But it wasn’t as long as Amanda would have to live with what he’d done to her. 

Indeed, Amanda would be serving a much longer sentence.

Justice. 

When they arrived home, Olivia more easily pulled her fiancée to her, burying her face into a pale neck and pressing her lips against a hammering pulse. No words were needed in moments like these, when the two women were able to drink each other in and connect in a way not possible by any other means.

It was over.

“Something about speaking freely in court,” the blonde felt compelled to articulate eventually, “not having to answer anyone’s questions, but just sharing my thoughts and my experience, having complete control over what I say—it was a very powerful feeling. A very good feeling. I've never been in court like that before, but...it was somethin' else. I’m so grateful.”

Benson pulled back, cradling both sides of Amanda’s face. “God, I love you,” she declared, emotion lacing her raspy voice. “How do you do it?”

“I love you too, babe.” The younger woman mirrored her fiancée’s hold on her, thumbs stroking lightly over flushed earlobes, before realizing that in her hazy stupor, she’d forgotten Olivia’s question. “Do what?”

“I know twenty-five years is the max sentence for first degree rape, but I feel like you deserve so much more than that. After everything you’ve been through—why aren't you more angry?”

She’d been avoiding anger this whole time, and she’d previously thought it was knocking at the door of her heart, just begging to be let in, but when she searched for that rage, invited in whatever she’d naturally be feeling, she’d found that anger was a secondary emotion—caused by betrayal, hurt, insult. When Amanda stripped away the layers of the complex feelings she had about her assault and the following months, what was at the core of her emotions was as far away from anger as it got. She didn’t blame survivors who hated their attackers and those who remained angry for years; God knows she’d been there too. Today, for Amanda specifically, was not one of those days. “Liv,” she breathed, “I got more justice than ninety-nine point nine percent of survivors. He’ll be an old man when he gets out, if he gets out. I have you. You’re safe. Anger isn't what I want to feel right now.”

As the blonde pulled her close, Olivia was in awe of the woman she was lucky enough to hold in her arms. “What I want to feel,” Amanda whispered into a goose-bumped ear, “is you.”

Liv instinctively stepped back as if she’d been burned by a flame. “Are you sure?”

The younger detective sighed in relief as she erased the distance the other woman had created between them. It wasn’t an outright refusal. Amanda would be the first to admit that she was in an emotional place, but she was in a stable place, and she knew what she was asking for. Olivia seemed to recognize this instinctively, but she wouldn’t be the woman the blonde had fallen madly in love with if she didn’t confirm. “I'm absolutely sure.”

Amanda watched the person she loved more than anything in the world incrementally give in to her urges. A gentle right hand found its way around the nape of her neck, and a nimble thumb let itself lightly stroke her pulse point. The blonde observed the other woman swallow thickly, her need becoming apparent in muddy irises. “If you change your mind—"

All the younger woman wanted to do was quell the concern the practically shaking woman was experiencing. Olivia walked on eggshells around her fiancée constantly, terrified of a hidden mine prone to explosion. Amanda needed her to know that the extraordinary way the detective cared for her had disarmed every bomb, calmed every fear, shone light into the darkness, so she stepped impossibly closer to her, placing her pointer finger over her lips, so close that the blonde could feel her ragged breathing. “Shh, baby, just kiss me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please feel free to leave a comment/review, and please read Something Good and/or its one-shots! Remember, I’ll be replying to comments/reviews. Stay safe!  
> (Next chapter will feature explicit sexual content).  
> -Gabby


	12. Sentencing Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.   
> I hope everyone is still safe and healthy! We get through this together by staying apart.  
> Explicit sexual content in this chapter. I didn’t get as many reviews/comments as usual on the last chapter, and I’m just wanting to make sure people are still liking this story. So please if you can, leave a quick review and let me know your thoughts. Even a thumbs up or a smiley face means the world to me! Anyway, enjoy this sixteen-page erotic novella.   
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Sentencing Part 2

Amanda swallowed hard into the kiss as she felt Olivia’s thumb come to rest against the hollow of her throat, and she used both hands to guide the other woman’s face even closer to her own. The blonde could hardly believe this was happening, something she’d been waiting and working for over the course of several months. And God, how good it felt to know that her fiancée wasn’t going to suddenly pull away without warning, insisting they wait another week, another month, another year, forever.

The younger woman welcomed the aching warmth that shot through her core and made her legs wobble in need. She’d forgotten what Olivia could do to her with only a kiss—the brunette’s lips served as her kryptonite. She felt herself gradually melt into the touch, and though she wasn’t in total control of how her body responded to the heavenly sensations, being wrapped up in Olivia’s arms was the ultimate safety blanket. The more experienced detective was an expert at providing both comforting and arousing stimulation at the same time, one hand rubbing snail-paced lines up and down Amanda’s back in an effort to keep her muscles relaxed and the other gripping hungrily onto her face as she held their mouths together, tongues languidly dancing around one another.

Olivia was about to pull away from the embrace in order to give the blonde a breather and check in with her, but her efforts were thwarted by a hungry moan and a tighter grip on Amanda’s part, as if the other woman had known what the brunette had intended to do and decided to protest. It was a wordless “Stay”, and it urged Benson on.

The older woman drank in her love’s expression of pleasure, smiling to herself at how comfortable she seemed. Though the two cops had only been together for six months prior to Amanda’s assault, they had established a fairly healthy sexual relationship, and they were often ravenous for one another. Throughout the beginning of her journey back to wholeness, Olivia hadn’t allowed herself to miss the feel of Amanda’s lips, of her tongue, of her delicate but purposeful fingers. She hadn’t let herself long for the touch on her skin, all around her, inside her. It would have been too painful, and she was sure the guilt would have swallowed her soon after. Amanda was alive, and that was enough to be grateful for. 

Everything else with time, she always said. With time. But now that said time had come, the need hit her with such force, she didn’t know how she’d ever be satiated again. The way Amanda moved against her was intoxicating, and she could have stayed there in that moment for the rest of her life. She’d miss absolutely nothing, as long as she had this incredible creature in her arms. The detective reminded herself to remain alert, to stay vigilant to potential changes in Amanda’s body language, to anything that would suggest the blonde was beginning to feel unsafe. But in this instant, as Olivia surrendered to the irresistible contact, she found no hesitation whatsoever, a sigh of relief escaping her through a breathy exhale. 

Amanda’s fingers tangled deeply into brown tresses, holding on for dear life. God, she never wanted to let go. She became acutely aware of the weakness in her lower appendages when the strong arm that had been previously enticing tense muscles to unknot from involuntary contraction changed course to wrap securely around her waist in support. Oh, Amanda noticed. Her legs were trembling, and she was likely seconds away from collapsing.

Too much of a good thing, perhaps. She couldn’t prevent the breathless whine that escaped her lips when Olivia pulled just far enough away to be capable of using her voice, two foreheads coming together in sweaty intimacy. “I’m okay, Liv,” Rollins weakly insisted, her larynx not cooperating with her desperate attempt to stop Olivia from suggesting they take a break.

“I know, baby,” Liv purred in response, allowing her fingers to whisper down the nape of her panting fiancée’s neck, before slowly bringing the hand down to join the other in giving support to the small of   
Amanda’s back. “Standing just beyond the doorway while we do this might not be such a good idea though,” she advised with a light-hearted smile, pressing a chaste kiss to a pale shoulder.

Amanda let her lips caress a brunette head, chuckling gently as her breathing slowed. She had completely forgotten where they were, the apartment and the world around them—police sirens, car alarms, the hustle and bustle of a busy Manhattan evening—disappearing completely, leaving the two women floating alone in blissful air. “Bedroom?” she suggested as two pairs of cloudy eyes met once again. 

Olivia offered a small nod, and then she rested her chin on the blonde’s heaving shoulder, inviting her to share in a moment of embrace. The younger of the two women hummed as she returned the gesture, so thankful to be this close to the woman who had saved her life. On the surface, it felt like an exaggeration. Dramatic Mandy Jo, her mother would have chastised. But deeply and truly, Amanda knew it was the God’s honest truth. It was Liv’s faith in her that had led her to insubordination of Cragen’s command. Who knows how much longer she would have lasted—

No. Today wasn’t about what-ifs and who-knows.

Today was about justice. It was about healing and connection and love. Because Amanda was safe.

Amanda was safe.

A giddy flutter began in her heart as Benson lovingly led her into their bedroom. The door closed with a small click before both women stood silently in awe of the other for a few sacred moments. The   
blonde thanked her lucky stars that the broken road she’d traveled her entire life had led to Olivia Benson, the one person who had ever made her feel worthy of compassion, respect, and care. Liv, for her part, couldn’t help but acknowledge the miracle of her fiancée’s very existence. After how close she’d come to losing the love of her life, every thump of her pulse, every warm breath as their mouths moved together in a practiced duet, every soft laugh or gratified moan—it was all a gift. 

They would never take this for granted again.

It was Amanda who released a hearty chuckle first, causing the older woman to react in kind, biting her lip as she stepped closer to the other detective. “Did we forget how to have sex?” the blushing blonde inquired, running her right hand over Olivia’s shoulder and down her upper arm. 

“I don’t think so,” she replied with another deep laugh, encircling her fiancée’s neck with both arms. “I think we both just know how significant this is.”

Amanda nodded. “I don’t want you to feel pressure to make this special. It’s already special,” she promised, fingering the bottom of the other woman’s blouse. Olivia sighed with a small smile. Amanda knew her so, so well. “So, let’s just enjoy bein’ together and see what happens,” she finished with a small shrug. “Yeah?”

The brunette hadn’t realized how much she had riding on this evening until relief washed over her at her love’s words. She’d wanted it to be perfect, romantic, something that Amanda would remember for the rest of her life. She wanted each measured stroke to be healing, every kiss to be a promise, a reminder of her love, so that Rollins would never again associate sexual contact with pain and danger. But this was a lot of responsibility for her to put on herself, and though she realized this fact, she couldn’t absolve herself of it. Hearing Amanda’s words went a long way as far as assurance that she was wasn’t looking for a superhumanly healing touch here. Only connection with the woman she loved. And as they often told each other, they would take it second by second. “Yeah,” came a soft agreement after a few seconds.

“Can I take care of you first?” Amanda murmured against Liv’s mouth, their breath mingling together. 

The older detective had been expecting this. The blonde so obviously wanted to take the next step, but there was a part of her that was always going to try and stall any attention being given to her. That was just the Amanda Rollins way. Even after a year of being with Olivia, she still wasn’t quite comfortable with the idea of being showered with love and affection. “Mhm. As long as that’s what you want,” Benson whispered into a blushed ear just before peppering it with kisses.

“I do want,” was her breathy answer as two shaky knees began to buckle at the feeling of the other woman’s mouth working against her earlobe.

“I got you,” the brunette vowed softly, scooping Amanda into her arms gingerly and then carefully lying her on their shared bed. Liv cuddled up next to her on top of the comforter, wrapping an arm around the trembling woman and coaxing a tense shoulder blade to relax. “Standing up too hard?” she questioned with a light chuckle, knowing the woman she loved had the propensity to become physically overwhelmed at too much sensation and often was unable to support herself in an upright position once things got intense.

The detective buried her face into Liv’s chest, slightly embarrassed that she had lasted on her feet for less than five minutes, and she released a frustrated groan. “You’re stallin’, Benson.”

“You’re deflecting, Rollins,” she countered teasingly, using her free hand to massage the woman’s scalp. “Seriously though,” she sobered after a few seconds, lifting the blonde’s chin so she would meet a pair of concerned eyes. “Is it too much? Do you need to slow down?”

God, no. A vehement shake of her head got the point across. “I think my Bambi legs just needed a break,” she joked absently, mesmerized by the facial features she was slowly tracing with a single digit. “I’m good, Liv,” she drawled in conclusion. “More than good.”

Sufficiently appeased, Olivia used the leverage she had gained on Rollins’s chin to guide their lips back together, still squeezing against her shoulder. Amanda always held tension in her body, but the brunette wanted to remind her that she was safe through grounding, not overtly sexual touch.

Those lips would be the death of her, Amanda decided, but what a way to go. This time, in order to assure her love that she was more than okay with moving forward, she pulled the other woman closer, letting her tongue beg for entrance into Olivia’s mouth, moaning happily when the permission was granted. The vibration of the sound shot fireworks right to the older woman’s core, a vague throb starting in her clit, a reminder of the desire she’d been resisting for the past several months. “I love you,” she panted into Amanda’s mouth, letting her fingernails ghost down her ribcage. 

“I love you too,” came the blonde’s heated reply, her own relentless fingers traveling under Olivia’s blouse, the raising of her eyebrows serving as a request to free her of the clothing preventing Amanda from fully exploring the body she missed so much.

A quick nod was all she needed to lift the garment up and over Liv’s head in one practiced motion. She gazed at the swells of each breast, the cups of a beige bra the only thing keeping Amanda from her intended destination. “I love you,” she repeated, this time reverently. “God, I love you.” A single tear fell from her right eye as the emotion she was feeling became too intense for her body to take.

Liv jumped instantly into action, sitting up fully on her knees to meet thoughtful blue eyes. “What happened, sweetheart? Is something wrong? Tell me, let me help you," she begged desperately. 

"No, baby.” Amanda shook her head in realization that the sight of her crying could potentially be concerning. She quickly unbuttoned her own shirt, pulling it off over her arms as Liv looked on with some confusion. She reached up to wipe away the lone tear before claiming Olivia’s hand in hers and placing it over her heart, allowing her to feel the rapid but steady beating of the healthy muscle below the touch. “I'm—I'm happy. I’m so happy."

Amanda was happy crying. Liv had never seen her happy cry before, but it was exquisitely breathtaking, a peace settling over her features that the brunette couldn't help but marvel at. How strong, how beautiful was the woman who lied next to her. “I’m sorry I scared you, baby,” the blonde apologized, the blush on her cheeks reddening further. “I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry,” Liv gently commanded, pulling Amanda back up into a sitting position and letting their near-bare upper bodies collide. “I never want you to hold it in. It’s okay to be emotional,” she assured the woman who still fought to prevent a deluge of tears from falling over the precipice of her eyelids. “I’m emotional too.” A quivering lip and shaky voice provided evidence to support the detective’s claim. “I’m just going to have to check that you’re okay. At least for now.”

Amanda nodded against the older woman’s forehead, letting a few salty droplets escape her tear ducts. As she had reminded Benson many times before, the brunette had also survived an awful trauma, and being impossibly careful when handling the other detective is how she was currently coping. Both women knew that sex wouldn’t be this high stakes forever, but for the moment, the younger of the two wanted Olivia to feel just as safe as she did, and if she needed to question her tears, then that was okay. It was okay to just be, to be in the moment, to accept themselves for where they were in the healing journey, and to take it one second at a time. The next word to leave through Amanda’s lips was a whisper. “Bra?”

Both women giggled through the remnants of their tears, taking turns wiping wet streaks from the other’s soft features. Olivia nodded, reaching behind her to unclasp the offending item of clothing and toss it out of their way while Amanda did the same. The younger woman gently guided Liv back down onto the bed before straddling her hips in reminder that they’d agreed to go about things in this order. She planted a chaste kiss on her cheek before attaching her lips to Olivia’s pulse point, feeling the thumping accelerate along with the pressure she provided. A low hum reverberated through Benson’s throat, spurring Amanda on as both hands found two erect nipples. “This okay?” the blonde asked against Olivia’s collarbone, continuing her ministrations with her hands and mouth after receiving an enthusiastic nod.

A pair of pink lips travelled to take over for expert hands, as her fingers made quick work of the button and zipper of Olivia’s slacks. Amanda rolled to the side to give the other woman the room she needed to take off her remaining clothing, but then the blonde quickly returned to her position on top of her fiancée, feeling toned abdominal muscles ripple under the constant ministrations of Amanda’s mouth as her fingernails covered the distance from the soft globes atop Olivia’s chest to the firmer globes of her ass. Amanda continued the rhythmic squeezing as she scooted even lower on the bed, pressing her lips to olive skin mere centimeters before pubic hair began. She looked up her fiancée’s face for a moment, smiling to herself at the sweat collecting on her furrowed brow. “Can I?” she asked, moving a hand around to squeeze a subtly rocking hip. 

A poorly concealed whimper along with shaky fingers weakly moving towards Amanda was the only response Olivia was capable of giving in that moment. “I’ll take that as a yes?” the blonde teased, trailing one finger through damp curls at a frustratingly slow speed.

The older woman’s breath came in staccato beats. “A-man-da.” 

Amanda made sure to maintain eye contact with the desperate woman above her as she slowly but intentionally flattened her tongue against dripping folds, humming at the taste and feel of her. Heaven. A guttural moan ripped through Olivia’s throat at the contact with such force that the younger detective could feel it vibrate through her mouth.

Not wanting to force her fiancée’s face into her body, Olivia feebly grappled for purchase against the sheets with both sets of fingers, holding tightly and willing herself not to thrust into Amanda’s mouth. It was safer for the younger of the two to be in control, but the brunette needed more friction, and she was willing to bet that the other woman already knew that.

“You can hold me,” Amanda invited, releasing sensitive flesh with a pop, and lying her hand over one of Olivia’s, coaxing her to release the sheet she was holding onto for dear life. “Seriously,” she laughed when Liv didn’t open her eyes and instead held tighter to the fabric below her fingers. “Open your eyes, baby. Look at me.” Amanda gazed into darkened pupils, lightly stroking wet folds with two fingertips.   
“You don’t have to hold back, Olivia,” the blonde assured, peppering kisses to the skin below her. “I’ll tap you like this,” she suggested, delivering a series of light taps to the hip she had been squeezing, “if I need you to let go, okay?”

“Okay,” Benson croaked. Her mouth was dry, and she was already unbelievably worked up due to Amanda’s expertly gentle touch. “If you’re sure?”

The younger woman nuzzled Liv’s inner thigh with her nose, pressing a kiss to her apex. “Relax, baby,” she coached. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want you to do it.”

Olivia reached with both hands to pull tousled hair out of her love’s face, giving her a small nod as permission for the smiling blonde to continue, which she did eagerly, wasting no time before delicately pulling the other woman’s clit between her lips, sucking with measured intensity as she brought two fingertips to the brunette’s entrance, using the wetness that had pooled there to lubricate the two digits. A meaningful jerk of fingers in her hair urged Amanda to follow through, gently pushing cold fingers into breathtaking warmth. The younger detective felt, rather than saw, the stunning woman arch into the touch, a deep “Oh” vibrating through her voice box. After giving her a few moments to adjust, Amanda resumed her movements against hot flesh, combining the careful, warm touch of her lips and tongue with the much more forceful thrusts of her fingers, something she knew always drove Olivia crazy. 

Amanda was delighting in the feeling of strong muscles beginning to tighten around her fingers when Olivia’s hands moved to blindly grasp her face, pulling lightly. “Come back up here,” she demanded with some effort, wincing as the friction against her clit ceased. As the blonde obeyed her fiancée’s command, she made sure to keep the fingers of her right hand buried inside the woman she loved. Olivia’s body was home. It felt like the warmest of hugs.

As their lips connected once more, Amanda attempted to bring the fingers of her left hand back down to massage the brunette’s clit, but Olivia’s hand knocked them away, searching for more intimate contact between the two of them. “No, I got this part,” Benson promised, interlacing the fingers of her left hand with Amanda’s. “Can I hold your hand?” she requested, more as an afterthought.   
Understanding what Liv was trying to accomplish, she smiled softly, pressing loving kisses into the fragile skin of her closed eyelids and resuming the movement of her fingers inside the older woman.   
“Teamwork,” she observed with a light chuckle when her fingers collided with her love’s speedy ones as they worked together to bring Olivia to the edge of blissful oblivion.

Suddenly, an appealing idea occurred to the blonde, and she carefully pulled her fingers from the depths of the love of her life’s body, sliding completely off of her and casually reclining next to her now thrashing form.

“Why did you stop?” the woman questioned, stopping her own movements, worry worn evidently on her features as she lifted her head in newfound alertness. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” she grinned. “I just wanna watch for a few minutes.” At her fiancée’s flabbergasted expression, she reached to tickle the woman’s collarbone. “You in a hurry? You got plans later?”

Olivia’s head fell back dramatically onto the pillow below her, the throbbing in her core becoming more uncomfortable by the second. “Jesus Christ, ‘Manda.”

The mischievous smile on Amanda's lips reminded the brunette of a painful truth. 

She used to be playful. 

But instead of letting the threatening anger and sadness wash over her as it usually did, Olivia took a page from her smiling love's book and allowed herself to simply be grateful for the present moment. Amanda was asking for a show. And Amanda deserved whatever she asked for. 

After a while, the desperate woman began to squirm on the bed. The fire blazing inside Olivia could only be put out by the touch of Amanda Rollins. She knew it would only get more unbearable if she continued to stimulate overwhelmed nerve endings herself. She needed the woman who looked at her with wide, glazed over eyes, whose only contributions to Olivia’s hopeless masturbation were an occasional voicing of appreciation and teasing kisses to every inch of her face. Her touch, and hers alone, against the hot skin that begged for more, would be the brunette’s only undoing. "'Manda," she whined, "can we roll credits on this movie please? I need you."

Amanda wasn’t trying to tease her beautiful fiancée, though she was enjoying the sights and sounds of Olivia pleasuring herself. It’s just it had been so long, and the blonde wanted to commit every moment to memory, wanted to savor the scrunch of Olivia’s nose, the way her eyelids softly closed in concentration, the way goosebumps formed on her arms, and the way her breasts blushed to almost match rose-colored nipples. She just wanted to take it all in, every ounce of pleasure the woman she loved was experiencing. She wanted to witness it, using not only one sense but all five. And so she gave in to Olivia’s frenzied request, gently swatting away a trembling hand with the sure strokes of her own knowing fingertips. "Okay, baby, okay,” she relented, encouraging the woman next to her to stop her frantic movements. “Move your hand away, Olivia. I got you now, darlin'. Just relax." 

The blonde turned her attention away from the pooling in her own underwear, shifting on the bed to get the best angle for bringing Olivia to unimaginable release. She squeezed her thighs together, stifling a groan at the long overdue touch she herself was craving. She shook her head internally. This moment was about Olivia. It was about giving her all that she deserved. She maintained the rhythm that Olivia had set against her pulsating clit as she straddled her thigh, careful not to let her clothed core come into contact with scorching skin. Rollins felt the brunette reach for her belt buckle in a feeble attempt to gain access to her body, and she gasped, instinctively stilling the hand against her lower abdomen. “Not yet,” she breathed. “I need to focus.”

“I’m so sorry.” Olivia’s face became even redder than before and guilt caused her racing heart to sink into her stomach. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Amanda leaned forward to kiss the frown off of her lips. “It’s okay. Just not ready yet,” she explained gently. “Let’s take care of you, and then we can talk, hmm?”

Olivia smiled, letting now sticky fingers tangle into the hair of the bravest woman she’d ever met. The love she felt for Amanda was overflowing—she could feel the fire in her toes. 

“You want both?” the blonde asked, leaving her thumb to tap against Liv’s clit while gently circling the tight ring of muscles around her entrance with the rest of her fingers.

“Please.”

Amanda rested her forehead on Olivia’s shoulder, humming as the older woman’s free hand began to rub her bare back again. “Your wish is my command.”

As soon as she’d restarted her relentless stroking against Liv’s inner walls, Amanda smiled at the sensation of the first pleasurable contractions Liv’s body gave around her fingers. Olivia gripped onto her back and hair tightly, throwing her head harshly against the pillow in a way that granted the blonde better access to her neck. “There you go, baby,” Amanda praised softly into her ear, nibbling gently as she continued to pull every last drop of ecstasy from the woman below her. “I love you.”

Olivia didn’t remember orgasm feeling like this. It always felt good, of course, but the release she was experiencing in these precious moments was like nothing she’d felt before, and it seemed to go on forever. She vaguely felt Amanda’s fingers coaxing her muscles to continue to tighten rhythmically against her insistent digits, appreciating that she’d lifted her thumb off of her sensitive clit. Amanda remembered her body, that was for sure, and the payoff was astounding. “’Manda,” she moaned in awe as her breathing began to slow, not daring to open her eyes in the unfortunate event that this was all a dream, a mind-numbing, heart-pounding, toe-curling dream.

“I’m here.” She felt a pair of soft lips against the shell of her ear. “No rush,” she cooed. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to pull out.” Olivia hadn’t even noticed that Amanda’s fingers were still knuckle-deep inside her until then, the digits milking the last aftershocks of pleasure from her body. She was still contracting down in response to the blonde’s careful movements, a wave of satisfaction crashing over her body every few seconds.

Eventually, she was sated, the explosion of sensation in her body returning to a low hum. “I’m good,” she murmured into Amanda’s ear, pressing a kiss against her heated cheek. The blonde returned the affectionate gesture by letting her lips caress the other woman’s collarbone as she slowly pulled her fingers from Olivia’s warmth, offering one more kiss as her body shuddered in response to the new lack of fullness. “I love you,” she breathed, strength beginning to return to her voice as Amanda rolled off of her, grabbing a tissue to wipe off her fingers before resting her head against Liv’s chest.

“I love you too,” she smiled, nuzzling her nose against Olivia’s sweaty neck. “And I like listening to your heart too,” she confessed.

“Is it still beating fast?” the brunette inquired, wrapping both arms around her fiancée. 

Amanda smirked, knowing she was the cause of the steadily decelerating beat below her. “A little.”

“How do you feel?” Benson asked after a few silent moments, her hand moving down her back and resting just above the belt she’d been attempting to remove earlier.

The blonde knew she was specifically referring to how she felt about continuing. "I’m not gonna lie to you, Liv, I’m still a little nervous. I just, I want to feel you because I still feel—” She stopped herself from continuing that thought with a small sigh. “I want you to be the last person who touched me. I want to remember your hands, your lips, your whispers." She didn't add the words "not his" because they weren't necessary. Both women knew the meaning was there. 

“That’s going to happen,” Olivia guaranteed, “even if we wait a little while longer, love. I want to give that to you, and I will—today or next year. It doesn’t matter to me. What we just did was incredible, and I loved watching you enjoy it, but—” She lifted the younger woman’s chin in order to gaze into her trusting blue eyes. “—I’m not ready to keep going if you aren’t.”

“No, I know I’m ready.” Physically so, she noted, because of the ever-increasing pressure building between her legs. Emotionally so, she added, because they’d prepared a trigger plan, and she’d never in her life felt as safe as she did when she was in Liv’s arms. The detective’s touch was practically spiritual for her, and their lovemaking had always gone beyond satisfying physical need, though it did that quite well. Time wasn’t going to make this easier, Amanda decided. At this point, she knew Olivia’s touch would be the assurance she needed that things would be okay. Worst case scenario, Amanda thought, talking herself up, I ask Liv to stop. I know she will. “Do you think it’s okay if I’m still a little scared?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Liv asked softly, waiting for Rollins’s expectant nod before continuing. “I’m a little scared too.”

Of course. Waves upon waves of realization struck Amanda as her love’s words set in. Olivia’s biggest fear was doing anything to frighten her fiancée or make her feel unsafe in any way. She nodded in understanding, sitting up and beginning to unbuckle her belt, pulling it through the loops of her pants. “Together,” she repeated her earlier word, this time with no mischievous grin on her face. Her expression was solemn, meaningful, and she absorbed the significance of the moment as she breathed deeply. “We’re in this together,” she declared, a soft smile turning the corners of her lips upwards. They were both nervous, understandably so, but this could serve them. The vulnerability would facilitate a deeper level of connection between the two women. Because they were both scared, but they weren’t afraid of each other.

“Together.” Olivia tested the word on her tongue as she considered her next steps. Amanda seemed absolutely sure of what she wanted, and the brunette knew it was unreasonable to expect that the younger woman would have no fear about experiencing sexual intimacy again until they actually did it. So, she gave a small nod, reaching for the woman she loved. “You need help getting your clothes off?”

Again it was Olivia noticing her trembling that brought Amanda’s attention to it. She chuckled, embarrassed at herself. “You must think I’m a total mess.”

“Yeah,” Liv agreed, sitting up for the first time since her powerful orgasm. “But you’re my mess,” she said affectionately. “Sit at the edge of the bed, and I’ll come around and help.”

Amanda dutifully did as she was asked, Olivia kneeling at her feet and helping her pull off her pants and underwear. She pressed a kiss to a shaky knee after a moment and then climbed back onto the bed, for only the second time in more than six months wrapping her arms around her love’s naked form. “What's going to feel safest for you tonight?” she asked softly.   
Amanda thought for a minute, boldly intertwining her legs with Olivia’s. “I think I need you to talk to me.”

“Okay. Well, I can use my hand like we talked about, and we can just go moment by moment. How does that sound?”

One second at a time.

“Good.” Amanda pressed her lips against her fiancée’s, cradling the back of her head with a desperate hand, pulling her close, closer still, eager to drink up the very essence of her. She’d never tire of this.   
And she, much like Olivia, hadn’t given in to the urge to miss the loss of this type of intimacy before now. Lately, it had been hard to deny, but before then, she had much more pressing things to think about. The blonde, becoming aware of herself leaving the present moment, reminded herself to stay with Olivia, to be conscious of her tongue swirling against hers, to notice the vice grip against the nape of her neck, to deeply feel the grounding touch of the brunette’s fingers against her back. 

As they moved against each other, both women lying on their sides, the truth of what she needed became utterly obvious to Amanda, and she pulled away from Liv in a hurry. "I don't feel close enough to you."

Benson let herself think for a few moments as she caught her breath. Their bodies were connected by every possible point. What could Amanda be asking fo—Oh. "I don't know if we can be closer without me getting on top of you."

Amanda nodded. This is what she’d meant. "It's okay. I need it."

Olivia gingerly rolled on top of her fiancée, their chests becoming one as the brunette kept both eyes diligently on Amanda’s face. Even when it was clear she’d completed the maneuver, the older woman was still holding the majority of her weight with her hands on either side of Amanda's head and her knees holding up her lower body like the kickstand of a bicycle, not allowing anything below her waist to touch her love’s now vulnerable form. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, of course. That can’t be comfortable. Hey, c'mere. It's okay,” she promised. “I told you this wasn’t a hard limit. You are gentle and soft, and you feel like you.” The blonde allowed her eyes to bore into concerned, yet lustful chocolate orbs. “You're unmistakably you, Liv,” she whispered, bringing the older woman’s face closer to her own. Once Amanda had succeeded in coaxing Olivia to relax her body into a more natural position, the blonde tucked a strand of hair behind her fiancée’s ear. “See? I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Olivia nodded, beginning to feel self-conscious. Why was she giving herself so many rules? “I won’t always be this awkward,” she vowed, chewing on her bottom lip.  
“You’re not awkward,” Rollins swore, letting her fingers caress the wispy hairs on the nape of the brunette’s neck. “You’re my Olivia, and I love you for it.”

“I love you too, and if you want me to, I want to show you just how much.”

Amanda cradled the older woman’s face with both hands, ensuring she could see the trust in her eyes. “That is absolutely what I want.”

After a few more seconds of prolonged eye contact, Olivia quickly kissed the blonde’s lips before moving on to the hollow of her throat. Amanda threw her head back in blessing, tangling her fingers into her fiancée’s hair. She was grateful for the pace Liv was setting, the shifting of her legs against one another reminding her of the growing need at her core. “Please,” she begged, her body stiffening.

Olivia hummed against her skin. “Shh,” she cooed. “Just relax, sweetheart.” She pressed open-mouth kisses into the woman’s neglected collarbone, whispering words of adoration in between each delicate caress of her lips. “I’ve got you. Breathe and feel,” she reminded gently, a purposeful hand moving up the blonde’s side and dancing closer to her heaving chest.

Breathe and feel, Amanda repeated to herself. She was safe. She was loved. And she would be taken care of. There was no reason to rush. There was no reason to not let Olivia take her time with her. After all, it was clear the brunette intended to slowly and lovingly bring her as much pleasure as possible. As the younger woman realized where Liv’s hand was heading, she took initiative, not wanting her fiancée to stop kissing her in order to ask the necessary question. “Yes,” Amanda gulped confidently, receiving a small smirk in response, but the interruption in the contact was definitely much smaller than it would have been if Olivia had needed to speak. 

One hand delicately massaged Amanda’s left breast as the brunette kissed a heated trail to her right. The younger detective scratched at Liv’s scalp in encouragement, not sure if she’d be able to verbally respond at this point if she was asked to give consent. She moaned quietly at the contact, the best she could do, reaching out to grasp Olivia’s free arm, her hand traveling to meet a set of fingers at the end of the muscular appendage. 

Olivia’s heart leapt upon realizing that the love of her life was requesting grounding contact, was asking for her to hold her hand as her fingers and mouth carefully touched the sensitive skin atop her chest. The brunette squeezed the fingers that wrapped around hers, bringing both hands to rest by Amanda’s head. “Good?” she whispered against a pert nipple, waiting only a fraction of a second for an excited nod before reattaching her lips to the rosy bud. 

The trust the younger detective was giving to her fiancée was enough to bring tears to Olivia’s eyes. Sure, her touch was gentle, and she was being careful about how much weight she applied, but the hold on Amanda’s upper arm and hand was still slightly restraining. The blonde didn’t care though, because as she squirmed under Olivia’s hot breath, warm tongue, and expert hand, she knew she was only one word away from freedom. It wasn’t a word she planned on using, however, because everything about this moment was incredible. It felt like she’d waited a lifetime for this. 

Eventually Liv’s right hand left the diligently stimulated skin a pale breast, and gentle fingernails scratched lines down Amanda’s abdomen, not enough pressure to leave a mark, but definitely enough for a more intense sensation than tickling, exactly how the blonde detective liked it. Olivia let her right-hand massage Amanda’s hip, an area that was often sore due to stress, as she rolled slightly off of the blonde’s lower body, a whimper escaping Amanda in protest. “I just want to start slow,” Benson justified, squeezing the woman’s left hand that was still joined with hers by the headboard. 

Amanda nodded, knowing she could pull her fiancée closer later on if she felt comfortable with it. “I didn’t expect to be this desperate,” she admitted, subconsciously spreading her legs apart in offering and letting the cool air hit overheated skin. 

“I’m going to take care of you,” Olivia assured, bringing her right hand to the blonde’s chin. “I promise I won’t stop unless you ask me to. I know you need this, so try to relax for me.”

“I’m sorry.” Amanda didn’t remember the last time she was this turned on, but it was a little embarrassing. She breathed in deeply through her nose, attempting to let her limbs go slack against the bed.

“You don’t need to be sorry, sweetheart. I get it,” she chuckled, remembering the smoldering arousal she’d been faced with. “I just want to say something before I touch you.” It went without saying, but both women knew Amanda would be reduced to an unfocused mess within seconds of Olivia’s fingers purposefully moving against her. She nodded, wanting Liv to quickly say her piece.

"If you get nervous at all, just tell me, love. I promise I won't be upset." Amanda knew Olivia was referring to the nightmare she'd had before testifying, but the brunette wanted to avoid bringing it up explicitly. "And we don't have to stop necessarily. We can just take a little breather." 

It was a relief to hear that Liv would be willing to touch her again, even if she did ask for a break at some point. “Thank you,” Amanda whispered, ghosting her fingertips over the content but serious features of her face.

Olivia hummed, pressing her lips to the younger woman’s forehead as she returned her right hand to the hip she’d been massaging earlier, letting her fingers slowly travel over the top of her leg, coming to rest against the uppermost portion of her inner thigh. The brunette forced herself to take slow, intentional breaths as she remembered the brutality committed against this area of her love’s body, how something so intimate and so loving had been violently turned into something that induced pain and fear. Amanda was so beautiful. She was so beautiful, and no matter how many years she worked with SVU, Olivia would never understand how anyone could—

“Olivia,” a soft voice cautioned lowly, “I’m fine.” The blonde was squirming under the other woman’s intense gaze, the compassion in her eyes somewhat disconcerting. “I’m not gonna break,” she assured. 

“I know.” The detective’s expression was tearful as she delicately ran a finger over blonde pubic hair, letting it caress the other inner thigh in front of her. She’d seen pictures of the bruises, and though they were no longer there, the brunette couldn’t help but think about them. “I just love you so much.” 

She didn’t need to say anything more. Amanda reached for the hand that had stopped its ascent at the juncture of her thighs, turning it slightly and pressing it against sensitive skin. “Look at me,” the younger woman implored shakily, stroking a thumb over the back of Olivia’s hand. God, her touch already felt so good. When brown eyes met blue ones, Amanda pushed harder against Olivia’s fingers, her eyelids fluttering closed momentarily at the sensation. “I want you to feel my body respond to your touch.” Amanda knew she was getting wetter, and though she felt like she might explode if she had to wait any longer for more friction against her glistening folds, her priority was comforting Liv. “I trust you with my life, baby. I love you, too, and I know I’m safe.”

Olivia nodded against the blonde’s forehead, breathing slowly as she took in the warmth below her hand. Amanda wanted this, and even though she’d been hurt before, she wasn’t hurting now. That’s what mattered.

“Can you just hold your hand there for a minute?” Amanda quietly requested, still letting her thumb stroke over the soft skin tenderly cupping her mound. 

“Of course. You need some time to get used to the touch?”

Amanda shook her head, closing her eyes lightly. “No, I...I just want to savor it. I always want to remember what this feels like. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” The blonde felt Liv’s lips against her eyelids. “But I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere.”

The younger woman smiled, eyes still closed, as she relinquished control of her love’s hand, her body relaxing fully against the mattress with a heavy exhale. Olivia kept her fingers impossibly still against her fiancée’s body, waiting for Amanda’s cue to continue. “Okay,” she whispered after a few more moments, “I’m good.”

Amanda felt Benson shift on the bed, evidently scooting closer to her. “Remember to breathe,” she said into the other woman’s ear, beginning the faintest whispers of movement with her fingers, smiling at the way the detective below her gasped at the sensation. Warmth traveled up Amanda’s spine, spreading all over her body with each steady breath. 

Olivia’s hand squeezed against the blonde’s, and she brought their lips together in a searing kiss as her fingers began to move more intentionally between her legs. Slow, careful circles around her clit with two fingers usually did the trick, but Liv wasn’t sure what her body would need tonight. So much had changed. “Does this feel good?” she asked against Amanda’s mouth, the younger woman nodding against her.

“You can go a little harder,” she prompted, “and even a little faster. You’re not gonna hurt me.”

Olivia knew Amanda was sensitive, but she also needed to be touched in a way that was almost overstimulating. It was a balance that the brunette had figured out in the beginning of their relationship, but if the ratio of gentleness to firmness had changed, she did run the risk of causing her discomfort, and that was the older detective’s worst nightmare. “Better?” she asked, swallowing thickly after making what she assumed would be the correct adjustments.

“Yes,” Amanda said clearly. “That’s perfect, Liv.” She hummed at the more pleasant touch, closing her eyes to concentrate on it. “Jesus Christ,” she breathed. The warmth in her body was beginning to turn to scorching heat, and when Olivia pressed her lips to a beckoning nipple, she cried out. “Oh, God!”

“Too much?” a tender voice questioned, lips pulling slightly away.

“Maybe a little,” the blonde conceded, a hand coming to wipe sweat off her brow. “I’m more than okay though,” she reassured Olivia at the guilty look in her eyes. 

“Everything at once?” Liv asked, thinking it was the overwhelming nature of the multiple types of stimulation that had been uncomfortable.

The younger woman nodded. “One thing at a time,” she reminded herself out loud. 

Amanda was a little quieter after that, as becoming acclimated to the intensity of what she was feeling often provided for heavy breathing and light sighs every so often, instead of the louder, more passionate response Olivia had become used to getting as the other woman approached climax.

Benson paused her gentle massage after a few minutes to look up at her fiancée with a smirk.

Amanda was breathless, not to mention disappointed, as she shifted on the bed to get a better look at Olivia. “What?”

“I can feel your pulse,” she revealed, a satisfied grin forming on her face as she slowed her movements in order to have a coherent conversation with the blonde. “And it’s racing.”

Amanda relaxed her body back down onto the bed, her muscles straining in the position she was in before. "My heart's not beating fast cause I'm anxious, Liv," the woman heaved, a smile breaking on her lips in awe of Olivia. God, she was cute. 

"I know," the brunette laughed the most joyful laugh Amanda had heard in a while. It made her head spin. "Makes me happy."

“You should be happy,” Amanda softly insisted. “You’re the reason I feel so safe right now. You’re the reason I can let go and just feel. That thumping against your fingertips—it’s all for you.”

Olivia couldn’t help but claim Amanda’s lips with her own, savoring the connection between them as her fingers resumed their earlier ministrations against the throbbing bud underneath her hand.

The younger woman pulled away reluctantly, her breathing becoming labored. “Can’t kiss,” she stammered. “Need air.”

“One thing at a time?” Olivia assumed.

Amanda nodded, forcing herself to keep her eyes open as she watched her fiancée watch her. “I love you so much,” the blonde panted, feeling her internal muscles begin to flutter in preparation for release.

“I love you, too,” Olivia said for the umpteenth time that day. It would never be enough. She’d never be able to adequately express her feelings for the woman trying so hard to let go below her. She’d never tell her enough, never love her enough. It just wasn’t possible. But that was okay.

Because in this moment, all that existed were the two women and their bodies coming together. All that existed was Amanda’s breathless chant of the word “Liv,” as she could form no other words. All that existed was safety and passion and connection and love.

Tears came to Amanda’s eyes as her pleasure reached a crescendo, unintelligible expletives flowing out of her mouth with abandon—she did enjoy a well-placed “fuck”. 

“You’re okay,” Olivia softly whispered into her ear as her body convulsed and shuddered in ecstasy. “You’re safe. Just let yourself feel it. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Those words were everything to Amanda. They were everything. After Olivia’s loving permission, she closed her eyes and focused solely on what she felt. On the frantic beating of her heart. The incredible way her body sucked desperately needed oxygen from the air. She focused on the way the muscles inside here bore down on absolutely nothing but still produced a cataclysm of sensation that rocked every inch of her. She turned her attention to Olivia’s fingers still delicately stroking her drenched flesh as she alternated between whispering sweet nothings into her ear and kissing away the tears caused by the equally powerful catharsis raging through her body. What an incredible feat she’d accomplished, letting go to experience this type of pleasure after so long. She felt a respect for her body in those moments that she hadn’t felt—well, ever, but definitely not in the past six months.

When there was only the hammering of her heart and the occasional flutter inside her, Olivia gingerly moved her fingers away from the blonde’s clit and rested them delicately over the length of soft warmth, a soothing thumb coaxing her to give in to the relaxation that beckoned her forward. Benson knew her efforts had been successful when the death grip Amanda had placed on her hand as she came had loosened, and she sighed, her breathing slowing. “Squeeze my hand if you’re still with me,” Liv gently instructed, not wanting to pull Amanda out of her reverie, but wanting to ensure she was still present with her.

Olivia’s words garnered Amanda’s attention, and she granted her a weak squeeze, her energy completely zapped. She was entirely comfortable just to lie there for the rest of her life, her fiancée’s hand cradling her most vulnerable area. She was still and she was quiet, but she didn’t feel the need to count the seconds. All she needed to do was feel and breathe.

It felt like an eternity later when Olivia finally spoke. “Keep breathing,” she cooed, “and take your time.” After some consideration, she added, “As we established earlier, I don’t have plans later.”

Amanda couldn’t help but laugh, her eyes opening to meet the brunette’s. “I’m gonna pay for that, aren’t I?”

Liv hummed, her own laughter dying down as she brushed sweaty hair out of Amanda’s face with her left hand. “Welcome back to planet Earth, my love.”

Amanda used her own newly freed hand to guide her fiancée’s lips to hers. “I do enjoy lower Earth orbit.”

“I could tell,” Olivia acknowledged, chancing one more stroke of her thumb across Amanda’s lower lips. 

The blonde gasped. “God, Liv.”

“Yes, my child?” 

Amanda rolled her eyes, still smiling. “I forgot how incorrigible you are when I come hard.” When she didn’t reply, the blonde decided to continue. “Actually, while you’re in the headspace to grant my every wish, I do have a request.” Olivia raised an eyebrow. “I don’t wanna have a big wedding. Just us, the team, Alex. Is that okay with you?”

The older woman nodded, squinting her eyes after a moment. “Wait, is that what you were thinking about just now?”

Amanda shook her head in the negative, pulling herself up once more to press her lips against Olivia’s. “It occurred to me yesterday, but I was finishing my statement, and it wasn’t really a priority at the time,” she explained.

“Okay, because I was a bit worried you didn’t actually leave the planet for a minute there.” Olivia smiled for a moment longer before sobering, gently moving her hand away from the overstimulated skin below it. “You are okay though, right?”

“Absolutely,” Amanda confirmed. “Thank you.”

Liv gave a quick laugh, wiping her hand off on a tissue. “You’re so silly. What are you thanking me for?” 

Amanda brushed a thumb over Olivia’s cheek, smiling softly at the woman who meant so much to her. “For helping me remember.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter was a labor of love, you guys. It’s almost 3 in the morning, and I am so nervous to post this. I hope you all like it. Please tell me what you think. Thanks to Aurigabi for helping me spot typos. I’m sure I’ll find some more because such is life. Anyway, comments and reviews motivate me to write faster, so please leave some for me. Two chapters left!  
> -Gabby


	13. Time Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.   
> I hope everyone is still safe and healthy! We get through this together by staying apart.  
> Thank you for the amazing comments and reviews on the last chapter guys. I so appreciate you all! I just posted a new short story, Dirt in the Carpet, that is a Amanda/Olivia friendship story. I hope you’ll check it out!   
> I’m reiterating my usual trigger warning because though a lot of this chapter is lighthearted and sweet, there are some serious moments, including a conversation between Amanda and Alex that gets a little intense. Hopefully, this will answer the question—“What’s going on with Alex?”  
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

In the First Degree  
Time Part 1

Spring was Olivia’s favorite time of year—warm, but not too warm, cool, but not too cool. Not to mention the metaphors for rebirth and newness. The brunette was a sucker for setting intentions in the Spring. It was better than New Year because it wasn’t absolutely freezing outside, and as she breathed in the air around Central Park, she could also breathe in new beginnings. She and Amanda had decided to get married in April, a quick ceremony at the courthouse, Fin and Amaro serving as witnesses, before having a relatively small party at a venue that was often used for police functions. 

After the actual wedding, the newlyweds decided to take some time for themselves, wandering around the city. As they walked through the park hand-in-hand, they were content to just be with one another. They had several hours before the party began, and it was a beautiful day.

“You don’t think it’s weird that we’re not having a big wedding, do you?” the blonde asked after several peacefully quiet minutes. She had been feeling guilty about all but insisting upon the less than traditional ceremony, especially during a particularly vulnerable time for the older detective. She actually had the gall to spring that one on her during sex, when oxytocin would be overriding all logical thought. She hadn’t done it on purpose, of course, but she still felt a little weird about it. Amanda and Olivia had never actually discussed wedding dos and don’ts amongst themselves before, so it was possible the brunette really did want the same thing as the younger woman. Still, it was also possible that she just didn’t feel like she could bring up that she wanted something more with her then-fiancée. The moment was too fraught with emotion.

Benson squeezed her hand, bringing it up to brush the other woman’s knuckles against her lips, and she shook her head, knowing the person she loved more than anything in the world had the propensity to over-think even the smallest of mishaps. “No, baby, I don’t. I think we’re doing what’s important to us—having the legal stamp of validity and celebrating with the people who love us. All that really matters to me is that you’re my wife, and I’m yours.”

Amanda smiled, inhaling the pleasant-smelling Spring air. She reached with her left hand to grab ahold of Liv’s bicep gently, a light squeeze communicating her agreement with the words she’d just said. The last few months had gone by so incredibly fast, and still the trial seemed a whole world away. She could almost forget the nauseous sensation in her belly that thinking about testifying used to induce, and sometimes she could replace it with the butterflies she felt flutter each time her wife—her wife—smiled or laughed or touched her in any way.

Life was so different now, and still it was the same. 

“You want to grab some lunch?” the older woman asked, a low rumble beginning in her stomach. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

After they’d eaten, they headed back home, and Amanda hopped in the shower to quickly wash her hair. As she turned on the hairdryer afterwards, Liv knocked on the door. “Hey, can I do my hair, or do you need some more time?”

“You’re good.”

Olivia slowly slid the bathroom door open, her eyes widening at the sight of a naked Amanda drying her hair. She wasn’t sure what she expected when she entered the room, but that wasn’t it. “Well…hello.”

The blonde smirked as the other woman reached for a brush, slowly pulling the bristles through her hair while keeping one eye on her new wife. “Is my bein’ naked distracting to you?”

She couldn’t help the blush that creeped up her cheeks. Busted. “A little.”

Amanda laughed good-naturedly, turning off the loud appliance and moving towards a cabinet. “I can grab a towel.”

“No, love, honestly, it’s fine.” The last thing the older detective wanted to do was make Amanda uncomfortable on their wedding day. They’d made so much progress in the past several months, and Olivia didn’t want her new wife to feel violated by her lustful gaze. 

“Is it?” Amanda placed her hands on her bare hips, preparing to steer the ship of their evening in the right direction while still enjoying the effect she had on the woman she loved. “We don’t have that much time. We can’t afford to get…sidetracked.” At the brunette’s curt nod, she decided to just return to drying her hair. Clearly, she didn’t want to play. Maybe Olivia was simply nervous. Not unlike the blonde, she didn’t always love being showered with attention, and a whole party dedicated to their new marriage could reasonably be anxiety-inducing. But when Amanda saw the woman deliberately ignoring her in her peripheral vision as she began the process of pulling her hair back into a formal ponytail, she had to ask. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” She blew out a puff of air, occupying her hands with placing clips in her hairdo. “It doesn’t bother you when I look at you like that?”

Amanda wanted her to be more specific. “When you look at me like what?”

“You know.” Olivia waved her hand in front of her face, attempting to will the right answer out of her body. “Almost predatory-like.”

Amanda turned off the hairdryer, resting her hands on the vanity in front of her. “I….” She was absolutely dumbfounded. She had been joking, flirty, almost teasing in her banter with the other woman. What in her behavior would lead Benson to believe she was feeling stalked like a prey animal? “No,” was all she could say. “No,” she repeated. “Olivia, we’re married,” she said, making an obvious point, though she still wasn’t used to saying the word out loud. “You’re supposed to be attracted to me. I’d be a little concerned if you weren’t.” She thought for a few moments as Liv waited for her to continue. “Am I acting uncomfortable? Because I promise you I’m not.”

“Not partic—” Olivia stopped herself as she realized she was about to utter the same phrase that Alex had basically forced out of Patton in court. She put the last clip in her hair, turning to face Amanda. It was her fault that what the younger woman intended to be pre-wedding foreplay had turned into this serious of a discussion. “No. No, sweetheart. You’re not acting uncomfortable. I guess—” 

When she stopped short, Amanda removed the distance between them, reaching for Olivia’s hand. “Tell me.” The older woman spent so much time comforting the blonde, and so she reveled in any chance to return the favor. 

It was bound to come up sooner or later. “I guess I’m uncomfortable because I worry so much, and I’m putting thoughts in your head that I know aren’t there because I’m an idiot.”

Amanda shook her head. She knew that this beautiful, compassionate woman had spent her entire life absolutely petrified that she was capable of violence. The younger detective didn’t often feel disdain for the man who had assaulted Liv’s mother, mostly because she was selfishly grateful for the woman’s existence, but in moments like this, Amanda wished she could leap through time and stomp on his balls—hard. “You’re not an idiot. But you do spend every moment of every day terrified you’re gonna hurt me. What are you worried about, Liv? You’re sexy. And I like it when you look at me like I am too. It is one hundred percent welcome on my part. I don’t feel intruded upon, or…or violated, or however you think I feel. I feel safe with you. I have never once seen you as predatory, Olivia. You know that, right?”

Benson worried her lower lip, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She didn’t know. “I do now.”

“You don’t have it in you, baby. You don’t have a violent bone in your body.”

“But—” 

“No buts. Ordinarily, I’d let you talk through this, but I don’t think it’ll help. I need you to listen to my words. Listen to my body.” She lifted the hand she was holding to her heart, placing Olivia’s palm flush against still damp-skin. A touch as innocent as this still spent sparks through her, and the evidence would be clear to Liv through the spike in her heart rate. She knew that if she could hear the beat echo in her ears, then the other woman would be able to feel it through her chest. “I’m not the only one who still has healing to do.”

Olivia leaned her forehead forward to meet Amanda’s, not caring if she’d need to redo her hair. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t intend this moment to be so heavy.”

Rollins pressed the older woman’s hand more firmly against her skin, cradling the back of her neck with the other hand. Olivia returned the gesture, both women holding each other close. “You’re right—I didn’t. But if heavy is what you need right now, then that’s more than okay with me.”

The brunette nodded, giving a few appreciative squeezes to the nape of Amanda’s neck. “The back of your hair is still so wet, honey.”

“Yeah, usin’ this thing isn’t so easy.” The younger detective picked up the clunky device, the part that was designed to protect curls clattering dramatically to the floor and serving as Exhibit A. “Your honor, I rest my case.”

Olivia giggled, the tension of before melting easily away, before bending down to retrieve the fallen piece. “Here, let me help you, love.”

One of the things both cops loved so much about their relationship was that when something was settled, it was settled, and there was no need to harp on such things for any longer than necessary. Getting the more experienced SVU detective to feel confident in her nonviolent nature would be a lifelong process, just like Amanda’s own healing journey, and that was okay. For this moment, it was okay to let it go.

The blonde immediately turned around, appreciating the assistance with a task she hadn’t expected to be so difficult. No words were spoken for a few minutes. Amanda was content to close her eyes and relish in Liv’s tender touches. Her heart began to ache at the thought that such an inherently gentle woman would worry she was capable of any form of assault, save for, of course, self-defense. But she knew she’d have the rest of their lives to convince her wife otherwise. She had the facts here, and they were on her side. 

Olivia broke the quiet between them, her curiosity piqued at Amanda’s quintessentially pensive eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

The younger woman looked back at Olivia through the mirror. “We’re married.”

The brunette’s eyes narrowed. What point was she making? “Yeah. We are.”

“That’s crazy. You don’t think it’s crazy?”

“No, I don’t,” Olivia laughed. “I always knew I would marry you. What, you do think it’s crazy?”

Amanda stuck up her hand in front of them. She didn’t actually think it was crazy, on a good day. There were times that the blonde would consider Olivia crazy for wanting to be with her so badly after everything she’d been through, but fortunately, those days were now few and far between. “Not in a bad way. I just never saw myself bein’ married. Probably because I assumed it would have to be to a man, and I had enough self-respect not to force myself into that.”

“I always knew I wanted to get married,” Olivia mused, brushing the remainder of her wife’s now dry hair behind her shoulder with gentle fingers, leaving goose bumps in their wake on Amanda’s skin. “Picket fence, a dog, two point five kids. I guess I wanted it so bad because I didn’t have that as a child.”

Amanda hummed. Because she did have it, in a fucked up way of course, she saw the worst of it, and never considered it a possibility for her life. “And you thought you could have that, even with a woman?”

Olivia discarded the hairdryer, placing it down on top of the vanity, before resting her chin on her love’s bare shoulder and wrapping both arms around her waist from behind. “I did. If New York hadn’t legalized it when it did, I’d consider moving to another state or even another country.”

Amanda let her fingers draw delicate patterns over the brunette’s arms. “Really?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she confirmed, her lips lingering against pale skin. “To be your wife? I’d go anywhere. Canada. Mars. Pluto. A galaxy far, far away. Anywhere.”

Though she wholeheartedly returned the sentiment that their connection was worth fighting for, Amanda didn’t always quite understand why Liv felt the way she did. “Why do you love me so much?”

The older woman squeezed Amanda to her. This insecurity of hers was awful, and Olivia longed for the opportunity to make it stop. “I think our hearts knew we were meant for one another. I’d never question that.”

“I guess I shouldn’t either.”

“Hmm. No, I guess not.”

The world’s smallest wedding party started at seven, and after some lighthearted conversation with Amaro, Fin, Munch, and Casey Novak—who was delighted to get Olivia’s invitation after over a year of no longer prosecuting sex crimes—Amanda decided to approach Cragen, who—along with Alex—was one of the two guests at the celebration standing alone. “Hey, Cap. Enjoyin’ the party?” The last time they had socialized was at Olivia’s birthday dinner in February, but even then, they hadn’t talked much. The police captain was often uncomfortable at social functions, and he was usually the sole person not drinking alcohol. At least today, he and Alex had that in common.

“Oh, yeah. Thank you for inviting me.” He sipped his glass of water, nodding his head. “Where did you find those cookies? Wow!”

Amanda laughed. “I actually don’t know. Liv handled most of the catering.”

“Rollins,” he said, his features becoming serious, “I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve always sort of seen Liv as the daughter I never had.”

Amanda smiled. “Yeah, yeah, I could tell.”

“And I’m sorry if things started off on the wrong foot between us. I can be protective of my team, but you’ve proven yourself to be a talented detective and a good person.”

She gave him an appreciative nod. “Well, thank you, Captain.”

“I’m also sorry for trying to stop Liv from going after you on that day. If I had known—”

“No, don’t mention it. Seriously. We all make the best decisions we can with the information we have at the time.” She shrugged, slightly uncomfortable at her boss’s impromptu apology.

Cragen had clearly been struggling with this for a good amount of time. Amanda wondered why people often let guilt and shame fester, rather than coming clean and acknowledging whatever the problem was, even if something wasn’t actually that person’s fault. What did it say about the human condition that nine times out of ten, someone would just rather suffer in silence? “You’re being too good to me, Amanda. I feel somewhat respons—” 

She cut him off, vigorously shaking her head. Why did everyone in her life blame themselves for Patton’s actions? Did she sound this ridiculous when she talked about making a choice to meet him in the warehouse? Probably, she told herself. “No. No. C’mon, Captain. You know the deal. You know who holds the responsibility.”

“Okay.” He paused, and the detective knew he was preparing to change the subject. She also knew it wasn’t her job to absolve her loved ones of guilt, but at the end of the day, she was the only one who they’d listen to. “I’m sorry to bring it up, today of all days. What I really wanted to tell you is—since Liv is a daughter to me, and she’s married to you now, that would make you my daughter too. If either of you ever need anything, know that I’m here. I just ask one thing of you.”

“Yeah. Anything.”

The man inhaled, and the emotion that took over his features was like nothing Amanda had seen on Cragen’s face, his voice cracking as he made his request. “Take care of her?”

She knew this was coming. “Of course.” She reached to give her boss a hug. “You know I will, Don.”

He nodded into her shoulder. “I do.”

Amanda caught a glimpse of their other lonesome guest, and she excused herself, sighing. There it was again, that suffer in silence thing. What was it about Alex’s nature that prevented her from integrating with the rest of their group? They were all friends, and the ADA was more than welcome.

The older woman did offer Amanda a genuine smile as she approached, greeting her in a friendly manner. “How have you been?” Alex fiddled with the straw in her tonic water, leaning against the dessert bar.

“Good. I've been good.” The detective decided to open up to her friend, thinking it might build rapport and encourage her to be honest as well. “I started goin' to therapy, which I was hesitant about at first, but...it's been amazing. I get to talk to someone who is always gonna believe me, who is there to validate my experiences. And now I don't feel like I'm always bombarding Liv with everything. It really helps with the balance of...stuff. It's been a lot easier.” 

Alex seemed genuinely relieved. “Good. I'm happy for you.”

“Listen, Alex, Liv told me something during the trial that I've been meaning to ask you about. You don't blame yourself for what happened to me, do you?”

The question rattled the stoic woman, and she had to consider her words for longer than she would have liked. “Amanda, I just assumed you decided not to come. I've been doing this for more than ten years. I should have known.” 

“Alex, I'm not new to SVU either, but when someone stands me up, my first thought isn't that they're being raped.”

Amanda watched the attorney’s eyes dance around the room as she fidgeted nervously with her own fingers, her gaze eventually landing on the floor below them. “So, when I was young, I dated this man.”

The detective instinctually wanted to create a more relaxed atmosphere, not because she didn’t want to listen to whatever story Alex was trying to tell her, but because it was painfully obvious that the ADA was deeply uncomfortable. So she plastered a smile on her face, a joking attitude lacing her voice. “You dated a man?” 

“I was young and naive, but that's beside the point.” The prosecutor shook her head, a mirthless chuckle escaping her. Clearly, Amanda’s joke wasn’t a good idea. “Well actually, it’s quite exactly the point. Our parents arranged the first date and I think they expected us to get married. New York high society and all that. He wasn't a bad man, I don't think, but he wasn't warm, and he was...handsy.”

The younger woman brushed a piece of yellow hair behind her ear, something Olivia often did for her when she was feeling anxious. Where was Olivia? Oh. Talking to Cragen. Amanda recognized the ball of nausea rolling its way up her esophagus. “Where are you going with this, Alex?”

The attorney kept her gaze downward, evading each of Amanda’s attempts to reestablish eye contact. Her voice remained devoid of emotion, and the younger blonde knew what was coming before she’d even said the words. “Sometimes late at night after we'd had a few drinks, he'd climb on top of me. I was always stunned into silence. It felt like a dream, you know?” Amanda had become familiar with this story rather quickly after her introduction into SVU police work. It was relatively common. She sometimes thought about how many victims there were out there that had no idea they were victims at all.

But Alex.

A tense beat passed, and eventually she looked up at Amanda. “I never knew it was rape. It was in prosecuting these cases that I figured it out for myself. So, yeah,” she said, her face turning red in a feeble attempt to hold back the overwhelming emotion of the moment. “When you didn’t show up to court that day, I should have known.”

“I'm so sorry, Alex.”

“You know,” she sniffed, looking around to ensure no one was watching the interaction, “I used to think it didn't affect me. But it's probably why I take it so personally when things don't go my way in court. I mean, I never said no to Conrad. But I definitely never said yes. And I never once wanted it.”

The younger woman had no idea what to say. But somehow this made absolute sense. Alex’s desire to attempt to set an affirmative consent precedent, the vigor with which she prosecuted her case from start to finish, the guilt that she felt on the day Amanda was assaulted, guilt that would probably never completely leave her. Amanda was at a loss for words. No one this close had ever disclosed to her before, and though she knew all the talking points like the back of her own hand, no response felt quite right to her. So she put on her detective hat. “Did you ever consider filing charges?”

“No. It was twenty years ago, so...”

Of course. Whatever the crime committed was—the clock had run out many years ago. 

“Did you tell anyone?” Amanda inwardly scolded herself for sounding so clinical. This wasn’t a vic. This was Alex. She needed a friend right now. But the usually self-assured lawyer, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable as she bit her lip and strained to keep threatening tears at bay, was a whole lot better at being a friend than she was at having a friend. 

Necessity. 

“God, no.” Alex shook her head. This was the one thing that she never even considered at the time. “My parents were angry enough when I announced I was ending the relationship. You're, uh, you’re actually my first disclosure. No pressure. “

“Thank you for telling me, Alex. I'm happy to be this person for you, I really am, but it might be a good idea, when you're ready, to tell a few more people. You deserve a support system, Alex. You deserve to be seen and respected and understood. I can tell you from personal experience now that it's not just something we say, the healing starts when someone bears witness thing.” 

“I know,” she admitted, “it's just Olivia especially can be relentless.”

Amanda smirked knowingly. “Liv can be relentless in some ways. She'll never let you get away with blaming yourself. If you apologize to her for openin’ up, it'll upset her. She holds you accountable. But she'll never make you give her more detail than you're comfortable with, and she will always validate what you're feeling.”

“I'll think about it.” Alex frantically wiped away tears, splashing some water in her face. “Clearly this is not the time or place. Jesus, I just realized that I disclosed to you at your own wedding. Talk about a buzz kill.”

Amanda knew this woman had never once in her life been encouraged to feel anything at all, and it was going to take some time for her to think she was entitled to support. “You're fine, Alex.” She remained quiet for about a minute, holding space for Alex and meeting her where she was in the darkness. “Actually, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Any excuse to shift the attention away from herself.

The detective second-guessed the wisdom of her next move, but she’d never get the answer she wanted if she didn’t at least try to ask the question. “Is sex always hard?”

This felt like the weirdest, most awkward girl-talk of all time, but along with a twinge of embarrassment, Amanda clearly saw relief wash over the woman in front of her. Talking about herself would have to come in small doses for now. “It’s always...complicated. You're going to have better luck than me though because Olivia knows the deal. None of my partners ever knew.” Amanda watched as Alex’s eyes landed on something several feet behind her. “Speaking of, Olivia is headed this way. I hate to ask this of you, but I have to. This conversation? Please keep it between us for now.”

“Of course,” she promised. “Not my story to tell.” She turned to the approaching brunette, wrapping an arm around her and pecking her lips. “Hey, baby.”

“Hello, my love. Long time, no see.”

Amanda pulled Liv even closer to her, turning the kiss into a full hug. She made momentary eye contact with Alex, who mouthed the words “thank you”, receiving a response in the form of a heartfelt nod.

When she pulled away, Benson kept an arm wrapped loosely around Amanda’s waist, and she turned to the one guest she hadn’t talked to yet that evening. “Hey, Alex, Casey wanted to say hello. I told her I’d send you her way.”

“Oh.” The attorney looked genuinely surprised at the notion that the other prosecutor would want to talk to her for purely social reasons. But everyone else here was having fun, and when in Rome….   
“Thanks, Liv. Congratulations, you guys.”

When she walked away, the older woman’s lips pressed into a frown. She had seen Alex’s red, puffy eyes as she walked up to them, but didn’t want to bombard her with questions. “Is she okay?”

Amanda nodded, letting her fingers play with the collar of the pantsuit Liv was wearing. “Oh, yeah. Just had a little heart to heart.” 

“Good. I'm glad you guys have gotten close.”

The blonde turned to wrap both arms around Olivia’s neck, humming when the other woman’s hands came to rest on her hips. “Hey, can I confess something to you?”

The older detective pulled her forehead slightly away from her wife’s, her nose and eyebrows scrunching up in mock confusion. “You're not breaking up with me, are you? Cause it’s a little late for that.” 

“No. God, no.” She pressed her lips to Olivia’s shoulder as they swayed together to further punctuate her point. “I...um.” This was something that had been weighing heavily on Amanda’s mind, but she hadn’t been absolutely sure about it until Alex had shared what she considered to be her darkest secret with her. “Lately, I've been thinkin’, and God, this is gonna sound crazy, but a part of me, ever since I was really young, has wanted to go to law school. I never thought I could actually do it. Never thought I was good enough. Smart enough. But Jesus, Liv, this past year has taught me—you never know what you’re capable of until you have to be. And I feel like I have to do this.”

Olivia cradled both sides of Amanda’s face with loving hands, a beaming smile spreading on her lips. “Why am I not surprised?” All the years of living room lawyer had been significant for Amanda. She was expressing an interest she’d never allowed herself to actually dream about. 

The younger woman still felt a little foolish. How much change did she really want? “Do you think it's totally ridiculous?”

Benson’s grin fell slightly at the thought that the woman she loved was already trying to talk herself out of this. “No, of course not.”

Amanda took a deep breath. “So, what do you think?”

She figured her opinion on this matter was instantly obvious, but apparently it wasn’t. The older of the two cops pursed her lips, feigning thought. “Yes. I think yes.”

The law school hopeful’s eyes lit up, her own smile eclipsing Olivia’s. “Yes? Really?”

“Yes!” the brunette laughed, her enthusiastic affirmation garnering the attention of more than one partygoer. 

“But is it the right time?”

“It never feels like the right time for most things, my love. But that glimmer in your eyes, in your beautiful eyes that I just saw—baby, I want to wake up to that glimmer every day for the rest of my life.   
Today is the beginning of our forever, and I don’t think the timing could be any more perfect.”

Amanda smiled again, leaning into the embrace of the woman of her dreams, her everything, her wife.

All they had left was time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: One chapter left! *crying face*  
> So, just as a heads up, Time Part 2 will take place in “present day”, so several years after the conclusion of Time Part 1 and will be something of an epilogue. I want to give you all an opportunity to request what you want to see in the last chapter. I have the skeleton of the chapter written already, but I’m happy to add in little things to answer questions you may have about Amanda and Olivia’s life many years down the line. So, keep ‘em coming, and LET’S DO THIS!  
> -Gabby


	14. Time Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is @faceinbud.   
> I hope everyone is still safe and healthy! We get through this together by staying apart.  
> I’m sorry for the length of time it took for me to write and post this chapter. I just wanted to get it right. Well, here it is folks. The final installment of In the First Degree. *Give me a moment while I cry*  
> I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a TRIGGER WARNING to anyone who is especially sensitive to the subject of sexual assault. ANGST TO COME!

“Just as one candle lights another and can light thousands of other candles, so one heart illuminates another heart and can illuminate thousands of other hearts.”  
-Leo Tolstoy

PRESENT DAY

"And?" A middle-aged woman stood with her hands protectively holding onto the shoulders of her young granddaughter, the question holding unbearable weight as Rollins approached the duo in the courthouse lobby.

"Guilty,", she breathed in relief, "on all counts. He's never getting out of prison."

The older woman's eyes watered, and she covered her mouth to conceal bittersweet release as she let out a singular sob. "Oh Christ, really?"

"Really," the blonde stressed. "It's over." 

After taking a moment to regain composure, the older woman turned her attention to the little girl standing in front of her. "Baby, what do we say to Amanda for helping us? 

"Thank you, Miss Amanda," she recited dutifully, wringing her hands together as they swung in front of her dress. 

"Oh, you are very welcome, Miss Charlie." Rollins knelt down to face the child, offering her a smile. "I want to thank you too, for being so brave."

Charlie grinned in return, bell-chime laughter escaping her as her upper body swayed in semi-circles. "Can I have a hug?"

Amanda extended her arms towards the little girl. "Yes, of course." 

At the beginning of the case, Amanda had built stunning rapport with this child, and though she told herself it was due to her passion for the job, the truth was the relationship between the blonde and the seven-year-old developed mostly because she knew and loved two other seven-year-olds (six and three quarters, they would claim petulantly) who had been through almost identical trauma.

She stood up after the sweet hug, placing a comforting hand on the older woman’s shoulder. Logistically, it was over, and Amanda knew that, but the next part of Charlie’s journey would also be difficult. Though she was physically safe now, the process of rebuilding the sense of safety she would need to enjoy the rest of her childhood wasn’t complete with only a guilty verdict. It never worked that way. 

"What do we do now?" 

Amanda gave her a sympathetic smile. Preparing for a trial often gave survivors purpose, something to focus on, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to feel lost afterwards. “I know how surreal this all is.” She thought for a moment about how to continue, pondering her options. She tried to keep her private life separate to a certain extent from her professional life, but there was really only so much she could do, considering her line of work and how it connected to her life as a survivor, a wife, and a mother. “When my wife and I began fostering, we realized how few resources there are for kids who’ve survived abuse and their loved ones. We began hosting a monthly getaway, called the Living Light Retreat, for child survivors of abuse and neglect. We camp most months, depending on the weather. We play sports, swim, dance, write, the older kids have a support group meeting, and the adults have a separate one. We even went to the beach last summer. We don’t deal with policy at all,” she explained. “We’re a very micro-level organization in that we focus exclusively on the psychology of the survivor experience. We know how dark and lonely this can feel, and we just want to share a little light. If this is something you guys would be interested in—” She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a card, scribbling a website on the back of it. “—all the information is here, and we would love to have you and Charlie next month.”

Amanda didn’t often explicitly offer her victims admission into the Living Light program because she worried about the conflict of interest that could exist there, but every once in a while, after the conclusion of a case, she felt compelled to bring a kiddo into the fold. She could see Charlie and Francesca being good friends. 

The grandmother was at a loss for words for a moment, but she reached out and took the card anyway. “That sounds amazing, Amanda. Thank you,” she said softly, almost reverently.

“Of course. It’s my pleasure. My own kids come almost every month,” she added, unable to keep the smile off of her face, “and it's been amazing for them.”

The young child gasped excitedly. “You have kids?”

“I do,” the blonde confirmed, bobbing her head in addition to the verbal reply. “They're about your age actually. What do you think, Charlie? Do you wanna come camping with us?”

“Yes!”

The sound and feel of her phone vibrating prevented Amanda from responding to Charlie’s exuberance. She quickly ignored the call and placed her phone back where it had been prior to the interruption, in the right back pocket of her slacks. “Speaking of my kids, I do have to go. It's actually adoption day.”

Charlie’s grandmother couldn’t resist pulling the other woman into a hug. “Oh, congratulations, Amanda. That’s amazing.”

“Thank you, Tanya. We’re really excited.” She knelt down once more to address the little girl. “Charlie, it has been so great getting to know you, and I hope I’ll see you soon.”

She gave a sheepish little wave before turning to bury her face into Tanya’s skirt. “Bye, Miss Amanda!”

“Bye, sweet girl.” 

Before she could escape down the hallway, Amanda spotted a familiar face. Well, actually, it was the back of a familiar head. "Doctor Wilde!” The woman turned around, smiling when she realized who was calling out to her. “Thank you for testifying." 

"Of course.” The doctor’s head bobbed. She’d been serving as an expert witness for a little over six years, and she’d become an honorary member of the team. “I'm always happy to help out SVU. I'm just sad I've had so many opportunities to do so."

Amanda nodded somberly. "You and me both. But you're an amazing advocate for these survivors, and they're lucky to have you."

"Same to you, counselor.” She gave the younger woman an earnest smile, placing a hand on her upper arm. “Say hello to Olivia and the twins."

"Will do. Be safe, Allison."

“You too, Amanda. Be well.”

Once Dr. Wilde had turned a corner, disappearing behind the wall, Amanda began sprinting down the hallway, pulling her cell phone out of her well-used pocket once more. She was more than a little late at this point, but she needed to update her boss.

“Alexandra Cabot,” she heard a cool voice from the other end of the call.

“Hey, it’s me.” Amanda frantically and repeatedly attacked the “down” button outside the elevator until the doors opened at a painfully slow pace. "Just wanted to let you know that the jury deliberated for less than an hour, and they returned six guilty verdicts." She took a cleansing breath as she realized that she was the only person occupying the elevator, leaning against the back wall. 

Amanda could hear the smile on her lips as the woman’s voice warmed, overcome with pride for her prodigy. "You're my favorite prosecutor."

"I learned from the best.” The ADA wedged her way between the still opening elevator doors, the soles of her shoes clicking against the marble flooring of the courthouse hallway. “I gotta go. I'm already late for the finalization. Are you comin’ to the party later?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Do you want me to come over early and help you guys set up?"

Amanda tucked some stray strands of hair behind her ears, wanting to look presentable in front of the judge. “You don’t have to do that, Al.”

“I know. I want to,” she insisted. “As long as it’s okay with you.”

“Of course it is,” she confirmed, striding towards the room where her three favorite people would be waiting along with a judge and a social worker.

“Great. Well, I’ll see you in a bit. Now, turn off ‘ADA Mode’ and turn on ‘Mama Mode’. Go make those babies officially yours.”

The younger woman nodded to herself, pausing outside the room where she’d legally become a mother. “On it.”

After she hung up, Amanda opened the door, greeting the woman who stood on the other side of it. “Hey, Melissa, I’m so sorry. I got caught up in work stuff.”

“It’s okay,” she assured, guiding the attorney into the courtroom. “Let’s get this party started.” She smiled, the closing of the door garnering the attention of her two clients and their other adoptive parent.

"Hey, Liv,” Amanda said, pecking the brunette’s lips, “so sorry I'm late.” She looked down at two sets of arms, both of which had wound their way around her hips, and she patted two heads of black hair. “Hi babies!"

"No worries, love, the judge understands. Did the jury come back?"

"Yes!” Amanda announced proudly, her wife breathing a sigh of relief. “And Captain Benson, you'll be happy to know your favorite Assistant District Attorney just won another case. I'm ten for ten this year. Buchanan won’t be calling me a ‘Green ADA’ for much longer."

Olivia beamed, grabbing on to the little boy’s hand. "Alex must be shaking in her boots."

"I think she's enjoying delegating from the DA's office. Dr. Wilde says hi.” Amanda knelt down in front of both children. “Are you guys ready to do this?"

Two piercing chants of the word “yes” resonated through the room.

Amanda placed her briefcase on a table and briskly approached the judge, their social worker on her toes. “Judge, I am so incredibly sorry for wasting your honor’s time.”

“Relax, Amanda. Today is a happy occasion. Let’s be happy, huh?”

“Yes, let’s be happy,” she repeated softly. “Sorry, I’ve had a crazy morning.”

The judge chuckled good-naturedly. “I think it’s about to get crazier, counselor.”

“That is—” She lifted the little girl into the air, holding her close. “—exactly what I want.”

The three women that stood before the judge were sworn in, and then the social worker was given permission to address the court. This journey had started more than three years earlier when Amanda and Olivia had decided to become licensed foster parents. They’d had almost a dozen children in their care during that time, but this was the first opportunity the women had had to adopt any of their foster kids. It made sense, this family of four, and Amanda and Olivia were both incredibly grateful for the chance to become parents to the twins they both loved so much.

“My name is Melissa Vogel, and I am the twins’ social worker. I placed Anthony and Francesca with Captain Benson and ADA Rollins almost two years ago, and as you can see, your honor, the love between them is just palpable. They’ve done an amazing job with them. Both children are thriving, and they are meeting and exceeding their developmental milestones. So, now that parental rights of the birth parents have been severed, I am recommending that you finalize their adoption today.”

“Thank you, Ms. Vogel.” The judge turned to Amanda and Olivia. “I do have to ask you a few questions before I can finalize the adoption.”

Both women were prepared for this. Amanda nodded. She’d answered much harder questions in a courtroom similar to this several years ago. It was odd, actually, how different family court felt from trial court. Being enveloped in a criminal trial had become second nature to her, and impacting cases from the other side of the witness stand was all kinds of fulfilling, but she knew that she’d never forget the experience of being a complaining witness. And truthfully, she didn’t want to forget because now she was able to approach the survivors who testified at her trials with a sense of empathy she hadn’t had before. Still, as she stood in this room, before a judge that she’d only met a handful of times before, the butterflies fluttering about in her abdomen were vaguely reminiscent of a less pleasant flutter, of the kind of anxious frenzy that stomach butterflies engage in directly prior to a defense attorney asking if she’d consented to almost dying at her rapist’s hands. It wasn’t something she enjoyed, but it was important for her to remember. It was her job to remember. As the blonde pondered all this, she felt her wife’s steadying hand come to rest on the small of her back. “Sure.”

“Of course,” Amanda echoed, placing a squirming Francesca on the ground. She didn’t often lift and hold the first graders anymore, but truthfully, she was the one who needed comfort in this moment. She was no longer used to being on the receiving end of questions in the courtroom, and it was more disconcerting to the blonde than she’d expected. She took a deep breath, letting her fingers lazily move through her daughter’s hair. These inquiries wouldn’t be difficult. This was a happy occasion, she reminded herself, emulating the judge’s no-nonsense tone in her mind. 

The judge looked down at a script in front of her. “Do you understand that if your request to finalize the adoption of Anthony and Francesca is granted, you will be legally and financially responsible for the support of both minor children as if they were your natural children?”

This time, Amanda spoke first, confidently expressing her comprehension as both women embraced their children, interlacing the fingers of their free hands together. “Yes, we do.”

“And do you understand that this support includes food, clothing, shelter, as well as educational and medical support?”

Both women spoke at the same time. “Yes.”

“Do you understand that if your petition is granted, you will be parents of your children in all respects, as if they had been born to you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you understand that you will be undertaking the intellectual, spiritual, and moral guidance of Anthony and Francesca?”

“We do.”

“Do you understand that you will be liable for all duties and responsibilities, just as if you were their birth parents?”

“Yes.”

“And do you understand that they will be your legal heirs?”

“Yes.”

“Do you understand that you will be called upon to provide love, affection, and encouragement, and that you will undertake some great and small inconveniences as parents?”

“Yes, we do.”

The judge looked up from her script. “Is there any reason why you cannot fulfill these obligations?”

Both women shook their heads. “No.”

“Based upon the report and recommendation of the children’s social worker, the court finds that the granting of this petition is in the best interest of the minor children. Olivia Benson and Amanda Rollins have demonstrated a willingness and ability to support Anthony and Francesca and maintain and foster the welfare and best interests of the children. They are suitable to be their parents. The court will therefore enter the order of adoption, thereinafter, Olivia Benson and Amanda Rollins will be the legal parents of Anthony and Francesca Benson.” She took a few moments to allow the women to kiss and wipe tears from their eyes, engaging in a group hug with their children for the first time as an official family, and then she asked, “You guys want to take some pictures?”

After they’d taken a few photos, the judge asked the kids if they wanted to bang the gavel, something that Francesca immediately refused to do. Tony, on the other hand, was more than willing to accept the judge’s offer, eagerly reaching out his hands towards the items the judge held out to him.

“Order in the court!” Tony yelled, slamming the gavel down against the wood and doing his best impression of a TV judge. 

“Ooh, gentle, T.” Amanda cringed at the sound of the wood harshly coming together. “Be gentle, love.”

“He had some questions last year about what his Mama does for a living,” Olivia explained to the judge with a laugh.

She carefully retrieved her gavel from the grinning little boy. “I have no doubt that you will be an amazing judge one day, young man.”

He gasped excitedly as Amanda reached out for the child, who had climbed to perch proudly on the judge’s bench. “C’mere, T.”

Tony let his mother help him physically step down off the bench. “Did you hear that, Mama? She says I’m gonna be a judge!”

Amanda giggled, knowing that this woman had no doubt aided in the creation of a monster. Tony was already a master negotiator. Was he going to start holding his moms in contempt when they insisted on bedtime too? “Let’s finish the first grade, and then we can talk about the bar, okay?” she laughed.

The family returned home, and both children were thrilled to miss school for the day in order to get adopted and have a party. It was time to start setting up, so Liv ventured to the grocery store for some last minute items, and the twins were helping Amanda blow up balloons to decorate the house for the entire SVU squad, who were due to arrive in a few hours. 

Once they’d come to the last green one, the blonde placed the air pump delicately into the neck of the balloon and asked her daughter to start attaching the finished ones to pieces of furniture. For some reason, the child absolutely loved tying knots. It was one of the many endearing things about her, along with the way her little button nose scrunched up when she concentrated. Tony happily assisted her with the rather large task, one of the most endearing things about him being how much he loved his sister. These children were incredible, and Amanda could hardly believe she would get to call them hers for the rest of her life. She had a wife—she would never tire of referring to Liv as her wife—and two children, something she never imagined she’d get to say. Now they just needed a dog and a picket fence, and Olivia’s childhood dream would have come true. Distracted by her thoughts, the woman hadn’t noticed how large and pressurized the balloon was getting, and she was oblivious to the stretch until it popped suddenly. The piercing noise sent chills violently down Amanda's spine, but it had Francesca absolutely frozen in place. 

The little boy frantically waved his hands in front of his sister’s face, but to no avail. Her eyes were vacant. “Francesca,” Tony whispered anxiously as Amanda hopped out of her chair and approached the two kids. He was desperate to get her attention now, his voice rising. “Francesca!”

Amanda placed a hand on his back, kneeling down in front of him. "Tony, bud, do you think you can grab us a cup of water?" She knew his panic wouldn’t be calming to Chess, but helping would keep his nervous mind occupied. He nodded. “Yeah? Thank you, baby.”

Once he’d walked away, she shifted on the kitchen floor so that she was looking directly at her daughter. "Chess, can you look at me, sweetheart?” At the soft sound of her Mama’s voice, Francesca’s deeply fearful brown eyes met Amanda’s gentle pools of blue. “There you go. Can I hold your hands?"

"Uh huh,” she replied absently, extending both arms slightly towards the blonde. She had one foot in reality, but it was clear that she was still being pulled somewhere else. “What happened, Mama?" she murmured monotonously.

"The sound of the balloon scared you, baby. But you're okay. You're safe with me. Just keep breathing. What do we say?"

She repeated the family mantra robotically. "One second at a time."

“Good.” At least, even in the midst of inexplicable terror, she recalled those words. “Yeah, one second at a time. You’re doing great, sweet girl. Can you walk with me to the table, so we can sit?”  
A wordless nod followed, and Amanda led the pale child towards a chair.

Tony came bounding towards the duo with a tall glass of water as Chess shifted until she was leaning against the back of the chair. The boy approached hastily, the liquid sloshing over the sides of the glass as he ran, and then he plopped it roughly down onto the wooden table. "Is she remembering, Mama?"

As a part of therapy, Amanda and Olivia were diligent about educating the twins about the trauma response in an age-appropriate way. They often discussed bad dreams, generalized anxiety, and “remembering”, or having flashbacks. In order to keep both children engaged in their healing process, their mothers had prioritized emotional intelligence and the ability to talk about what they were experiencing at any given time using words they could understand. "I'm not sure, love. But it's all gonna be okay. Thank you for the water. Do you want to sit with us?"

His head bobbed. “Yes, please.” The boy pulled out a chair, sitting on the other side of Francesca as Amanda continued speaking to her in a gentle voice. 

After a few minutes, Chess reached out for the cup of water, and Tony launched himself off his seat to retrieve a straw for her. “Thanks, Tony,” she said, sipping the beverage through a fun bendy straw.

Olivia arrived home then, closing the front door of their house behind her before walking into the kitchen. "I think I forgot the—” The brunette stopped herself when she was greeted by the sight of her wife and children solemnly sitting together at the kitchen table. “What happened?"

Amanda looked up, still squatting next to the little girl and brushing some hair out of her face as her wife’s worried eyes bore into hers. "A balloon popped." That was the only explanation needed for the moment. Loud noises were Francesca’s worst triggers, and the blonde felt so guilty. She should have been paying more attention to what she was doing.

Francesca pulled the straw out of her mouth. "I'm okay, Mommy."

Liv placed the grocery bags on the kitchen table next to Tony, and then she placed one hand on Amanda’s shoulder and one on Chess’s head. "I know you are, my love. You're being so brave." She looked at the younger woman, the hand that rested on her shoulder squeezing carefully. "How loud was it? Are you okay?"

Amanda nodded, taking a moment to lay her cheek against the brunette’s hand. "It was pretty loud. But I'm good. We're both okay, right, Chess?" 

"Uh huh."

"We took deep breaths and we drank some water.” The attorney gestured to the little boy who was sitting up on his knees, waiting to be given another job. “Tony is being a great brother."

"I bet. Thank you, T." The little boy wasn't as prone to panicking as his sister was, but watching Francesca when she was afraid often upset him greatly, and being productive calmed him. Olivia shifted on her feet to be closer to her son, rubbing wide circles into his back in order to coax his tense muscles to relax. “You okay, sweetheart?”

"Yeah,” he whispered, looking up at his mom. “Are we still having the party?"

Every time Francesca expressed fear of anything, her brother worried that they would be in trouble. This came from the first four years of their lives, as they’d become accustomed to being treated as a burden and an inconvenience if they were hungry, dirty, or sad. Old habits die hard, and it was exceedingly difficult for him not to apologize each time Chess panicked.

"Of course we are, sweets,” Liv assured him. “We're just taking a few minutes to breathe and make sure everyone is okay before we finish getting ready.”

He nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced. The captain sighed, an idea striking her. “I forgot the cake at the store. I have to go back. Do you want to come with me, T-man?” Maybe some quality time away from his recovering sister would be good for him.

“Okay.” Benson could tell he was trying to act nonchalant, but it was clear he was enthused by the prospect. 

“Yeah? We can have some Mommy/Tony time. Sound good?”

He nodded, this time with more obvious excitement. “Mhm.”

“Okay, grab your shoes, T.” She turned to her wife as he darted off, and pulled her up by her hand, capturing her lips in a lingering kiss. “Are you sure you’re okay, love?” Liv asked carefully, letting her nose brush against Amanda’s and noticing the residual pallor of her skin. The blonde nodded quickly, swallowing as she took a moment to hold her wife’s forehead against hers. The sound of the balloon popping had scared her as well, but she’d found that she experienced something of a “mom override”, where she could pull herself out of her own fear in order to protect and comfort her children. Still, she needed to acknowledge her own “remembering”, especially if she wanted to serve as a good example for her kids. Taking a moment to allow Olivia’s voice and touch to soothe her was exactly what her panicking heart was craving. She nodded once more as her wife kept her eyes locked with hers, pressing one more kiss against her lips. The older woman squeezed Amanda’s hand as Tony came bounding down the stairs. “Call me if you need me, baby. We shouldn’t be long.”

“I’m okay,” the blonde promised once more.

“I know,” Olivia said, but she also knew that Amanda had put her needs aside in order to care for Francesca, which was more than reasonable, but she still deserved to feel safe. The woman had been officially diagnosed with PTSD when she started seeing a therapist a few weeks after Patton’s sentencing, and though her symptoms were generally mild these days, it was something she still struggled with from time to time, and the SVU captain could tell when she was having a bad day. The case she’d been prosecuting was an especially egregious one, and because she’d been so busy with preparations, she hadn’t left much time for self-care. Olivia always made a point to check in with her, to remind her to check in with herself. She pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and then her nose. “I love you,” she whispered against her lips.

“I love you too,” Amanda replied, aware of what her wife was doing. She was genuinely okay. The balloon had startled her, and the urge to give in to the threatening adrenaline rush was intense, but she had breathed through it and focused on what needed to be done. Taking care of Francesca had kept her from being engulfed in the terror of a flashback, an ability she was grateful for, though of course she wished Chess didn’t need this kind of comfort.

In times like these, Liv often took Tony for some one-on-one time. He needed the reminder that he was still a child and his sister’s well-being wasn’t his responsibility, but that was also a hard habit to break for the boy—the two children had been taking care of each other in this way since they were barely old enough to talk. When they’d arrived at Amanda and Olivia’s home, they communicated with each other almost exclusively using twin speak, something that was a conglomeration of English, Spanish, and an entirely made-up language.

After Liv and Tony had left, Amanda asked the little girl if she wanted her to braid her hair. Chess loved being fussed over, and having her hair done by one of her mothers was one of her favorite things. It made her feel special and taken care of. "So, that balloon popping earlier was scary, huh?" the prosecutor asked her daughter after a few minutes, wanting to encourage her to talk about how she was feeling.

"Yeah.” Francesca reached up to scratch at the top of her head. “It was loud."

"It was loud," Amanda agreed. She knew they needed to go deeper than just facts. Both of them often tried to get away with keeping these conversations on the shallow side, both Rollins and Francesca worrying that they were making those around them sad. "Did it make you think of something else that was scary?"

She was quiet for a few seconds. "Miss Danielle says that can happen sometimes."

Amanda was glad that Chess’s therapist was on the same page as the two women, the three of them working as a team when it came to helping the child understand why things like loud noises scared her.   
"She's right. And you're not the only one. It happens to me, too."

"It does?" The blonde had vaguely shared with both kids that something scary had happened to her a few years ago, but she didn’t often bring it up in conversation. She never wanted to lie to the twins, but as brilliant as both of them were, they were still young children, and she wanted them to have the gift of innocence for as long as possible. It was the most delicate balancing act, discussing trauma with four-year-olds—which is how old the twins were when they moved in with the SVU sergeant and the SVU detective who at the time moonlighted as a law school graduate—and then five-year-olds and six-year-olds. As they grew, so did their understanding of the world and their place in it. Amanda planned on sharing more in-depth information about her assault with the kids as they aged and asked questions, but for now, the main purpose of Chess knowing about her mom’s PTSD was rapport building. 

"Uh huh. It doesn't happen as much as it used to, but sometimes loud noises like that really scare me."

Francesca thought for a moment. Miss Danielle had told her that talking to her moms was a good thing, that it would help her feel better. "It made me think about Daddy."

"That sounds really scary. Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really.” She shook her head, turning around to face her mom once her hair was finished. Ever the observant child, Francesca recalled the words that the judge had said earlier. “I want to be happy today."

Amanda also wanted to be happy, and she was exquisitely happy, but she also knew that adoption, as beautiful as it was, was born out of loss. Tony and Chess had experienced too much loss in their six years of life, too much sorrow, too much hurt. Rollins knew what that was like, and because she carried that pain with her always—due to her lack of access to essential services like therapy as a child—nothing was more important to her than helping her kids acknowledge what they’d been through. The sooner they let themselves go through it, the sooner they were led through the darkness with the promise of love and a flashlight, the sooner they’d be at the other end. "I want you to be happy today too, sweet pea. But sometimes it's hard to be happy unless we talk about the things that make us feel not happy." 

Wordlessly, Francesca threw her arms around Amanda's neck. "I love you, Mama."

"Oh, I love you too, sweet girl."

A few minutes after Tony and Olivia returned with the cake, Alex rang the doorbell, barely making it through the threshold before the twins were both excitedly holding on to each of her legs. “Oh, wow. I was previously unaware of being a tree.”

Amanda looked up to see the older woman holding onto the wall for desperately needed balance. “Hey guys,” she told the children, “let's make sure Aunt Alex is okay with us climbing her before we do it.”   
She turned to the woman and said, loud enough for the twins to hear, “You don’t have to say yes.”

The older blonde looked down at the two begging faces below her, and her heart melted. “Sure, I'll be a tree today.”

At her response, Amanda beckoned both children over to her, kneeling to be at eye level. “Guys, I know you wanna play, and that’s fine, but let’s remember that Alex is actually a person, not a tree, so if she asks you to let go of her—”

Tony knew this one. “We stop!”

Amanda looked to Francesca to be sure she came to the same conclusion. “You stop, yes?”

“Uh huh!” The little girl giggled, and Amanda couldn’t help but beam at the first genuine smile she’d seen on her daughter’s face in several hours. “We wanna climb the tree! Can we go play?”

“Okay, babies. Go play.” She returned to her feet and addressed Alex, both of her legs wrapped in small child. “If you’re okay with occupying these two, I’m gonna be in the kitchen. Let me know if you have problems.” She chuckled as she was given a thumbs up, and went to go cut some apples for the fruit tray.

“Can I ask why our children are scaling the Manhattan District Attorney like a skyscraper?” Olivia entered the kitchen after a few minutes, grabbing her own apple to begin cutting in tandem with her wife.

“Oh, she’s a skyscraper now?” Amanda laughed. “When I left, she was a tree.”

Liv shook her head fondly. As the older prosecutor rose in rank from ADA to chief ADA, subsequently winning her bid for the office of New York County DA, she had actually softened, becoming closer to both women, and eventually choosing to disclose to Olivia, a decision she never once regretted. Alex was as professional as they came, but she had a heart of gold, and she was coming to realize that being warm wasn’t mutually exclusive with being tough as nails. Being around the twins, two kids who epitomized “tough as nails” and still led joyful existences, had greatly helped with that realization. Benson knew Alex could take care of herself, and obviously her wife wouldn’t have let the children continue their jungle gym game if the District Attorney wasn’t completely on board, but she didn’t remember ever being that imaginative as a child. A leg was a leg. “That doesn’t address why they’re climbing her though.”

Amanda shrugged. “She said they could.”

“Of course she did,” the captain sighed in understanding. “I mean—”

“—Have you seen their little faces when they beg? It’s ridiculous. I let Francesca have ice cream for lunch because she asked so nicely. We need to work on sayin’ no to them.”

“Ah, don’t be so hard on yourself, ‘Manda.” Liv paused her cutting to look at her wife, the other woman meeting her compassionate gaze. “She probably needed the sugar after the adrenaline rush, and it’s adoption day. So, it’s not the most well-rounded day food-wise in a lifetime of days. It’s important that they know they can ask for things.”

The blonde nodded in agreement, but she wasn’t quite sufficiently appeased. “But it’s also important they learn how to hear the word ‘no’.”

“I hear you,” Olivia acknowledged, knowing her wife was likely beginning to spin. “But they’re not even seven, love. They’ve been through so much, and they’re still learning boundaries. It’s a process, like everything else.”

“I just don’t want to fail them.” Amanda, though she never allowed herself to admit it, had always wanted to be a parent. She’d always wanted to nurture a child as they grew, always wanted to love someone that much, but she was terrified of not being better than her own mom and dad. She was scared she’d end up in an abusive relationship, and her kids would learn that violence was an expression of love. She was afraid of being trapped in a reality that would force her to bring up her children in a toxic situation, and though she felt a lot more compassion for her mother now than she’d used to, it wasn’t a part of her history that she ever wanted to repeat. 

“We’re not going to fail them,” she promised, aware of Amanda’s concerns. After the younger woman sliced her last apple, the brunette pulled her into a hug. “We don’t have to be perfect every day,” she hummed into Amanda’s neck, tenderly rubbing her back. “Today, it’s only important they know we love them. And I think they do.”

At that moment, Alex came in, wearing two children as pants. She sauntered into the kitchen, swinging her legs in turn, much to the delight of the twins attached to her. “I think these belong to you.”

“Alright, guys,” Olivia announced, holding up an apple slice. “Release the tree. The first person who grabs this apple can have it.”

When Carisi, Fin, and Kat arrived, the commotion in the Benson household grew tenfold, Francesca immediately running into Carisi’s arms. "Come here, munchkin,” he invited. “Can I pick you up?"

"Uh huh."

The detective swung the little girl through the air, both of them laughing heartily. “Big hug.” He passed her off to Kat, who happily placed her down on the ground, kneeling to hug her at the child’s level.

“Hey!” Fin pushed himself through the crowd, wanting his turn to greet the new family. “It’s Francesca and Anthony Benson, my favorite Bensons!”

Olivia shoved his arm playfully after the man wrapped them in a group hug. The blonde smiled at the sound of the twins’ new legal name. The two women had decided that their children’s last name would be Benson because Amanda didn’t feel the need for her father’s name to go on, and though the relationship that the older woman had with her mother had been tumultuous, it did have its good moments, and that was more than Amanda could say about either of her parents. It just felt right, and it was far better than hyphenating the names and forcing their Mexican/Italian adopted daughter with two moms to respond to Francesca Rosabella Gutierrez Rollins-Benson every day for the rest of her life. 

Fin reached into his pocket, revealing a deck of cards. “Hey, guess what? I brought Uno!”

After he’d won Uno, the sergeant left the remaining three players to vie for second place, pausing in his journey into the kitchen when Francesca stood up. “Uncle Fin! Where are you going?” She placed her hands on her hips indignantly, huffing as she waited expectantly for an answer. God, she was just like her mothers.

“Just takin’ a break, princess. Show ‘em who’s boss.” He left the living room completely, placing himself within the group of women, who were conveniently out of earshot of Carisi and the two children. “Hey, can I join your lesbian circle?”

“I’m not a lesbian, Fin.” Kat rolled her eyes. “And no. You don’t qualify.”

“Why? Cause I have a dick?”

Kat’s eyes landed on Amanda’s, both women shaking their heads. The blonde knew what the officer was thinking: You see this guy? “No! Because you’re a man.”

He looked to Alex, hoping for legal help. “Is that not what I just said?”

She shrugged, sipping her water. “You’re on your own, Sergeant.”

Kat stepped forward, clapping him on the shoulder. “Once you learn to think before you speak,” she said slowly, turning up the condescending tone, “we’ll reconsider your membership. Now, go help Francesca win Uno, and leave us alone.” She gave him a few more pats, and then she shoved him in the direction of the card game. 

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest, amused. “Wow, Kat. You don’t mess around.”

“It’s 2020, and he works for SVU. We shouldn’t have to teach him these things.”

None of the other women could disagree. Olivia held up her glass. “To Officer Tamin. The badass who is not a lesbian.”

Alex raised her glass in kind, chuckling lightly. “To not a lesbian!”

After the party had ended and the twins had been put to bed, Olivia entered their bedroom where the blonde was finishing up putting on her pajamas. "Are they asleep?" Amanda asked.

Liv nodded, reaching into a few drawers to grab her own night clothes. "They're both sleeping so hard I felt the need to watch Tony's breathing for a few seconds. Hey, we never made a plan for tomorrow. Do you have to be in court?"

"Yeah,” she sighed, “I have three arraignments first thing."

“For SVU?”

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest, her brow furrowing incredulously. “Do I prosecute for another division no one told me about?”

“Okay, easy, counselor,” Benson laughed, pulling off her blouse. “I guess my question is—do I know about these cases?”

“Uh.” Amanda thought for a moment, pulling the bristles of her brush thoroughly through her hair. “Subway groper. Columbia rapist. State congressman. The usual.”

Liv paused in her mission to pull up her underwear, realizing she only recognized the first two perps. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Nobody told me about the congressman.”

“You gotta take that up with your squad, Captain. Regardless, yeah, I’m in court tomorrow.”

She decided to let it go for the time being. She’d definitely find out more about what was sure to be a high-profile case relatively soon. "Okay, well then I can take Chess to her therapy appointment in the morning—"

"—And I'll pick them up from school at 3 and bring Tony to swim practice,” Rollins finished, tossing her hairbrush onto the counter by their mirror. “Can you do dinner?"

"Got it,” she confirmed. After Olivia had pulled on a T-Shirt, the captain wrapped her arms around Amanda’s waist from behind, resting her chin on the younger woman’s shoulder. “Cragen called.”

“Oh, how is Don?” The blonde laid her hands over her wife’s arms, humming softly. 

“He’s good. Said he’s sorry he couldn’t be there today and that we’ll get together soon.”

“Cool, that sounds good.”

Amanda sighed, allowing herself to fully savor the moment. For the past several weeks, it had been go, go, go, and she hadn’t had a chance to bask in the here and now in quite some time. If someone had   
told her seven years ago—as she testified in her rapist’s trial—that she’d one day be discussing her upcoming arraignments with her wife, who was also the mother of her children, she wouldn’t have believed it. It’s not that everything was perfect, her life would never be perfect, but she was happy. She was overwhelmingly, gloriously happy. So much so that her bad days were only blips in the grand scheme of things. She had the life that as a child, she’d consciously forbidden herself from desiring. And it was better, more rewarding, more fulfilling, more joyful than she could have ever imagined.

As the silence lingered between them, Olivia decided to check in. Sometimes Amanda chose to be quiet just so she could process. But the brunette still wanted the honor of being granted access to her love’s thoughts. "Hey. What are you thinking about?" 

The ADA smiled softly, knowing that Liv would always worry about where her thoughts went when she was quiet like this. "How happy I am. How much I love you and our family. How grateful I am that I'm alive and healthy, and we're all safe. I just want this feeling to last forever."

"We have time, love."

"I know." 

Amanda smiled to herself at the feeling of Olivia’s fingers migrating to the underside of her wrist. It had become something of a habit for the older woman to fill a quiet moment with the gentle beating of her wife’s heart, and though it was still comforting, it wasn’t as desperately needed as it had used to be.

“Well, your pulse is fast,” she observed, grinning and pressing a kiss directly over the rapid beat coming from her carotid artery. 

“Can you blame me?” Amanda breathed. “We’ve both been so busy, I don’t think you’ve been this close to me for this long in weeks. I miss you. Apparently, my heart misses you too.”

“Mm. We need to make a point to create time for one another.”

“Well, we have time right now,” she suggested, cloudy eyes meeting Olivia’s through the full-length mirror as she slowly guided the other woman’s right hand down her torso, pausing the journey at the elastic waistband of her pajama pants.

The brunette chuckled, raising both eyebrows and pressing a kiss to the nape of her wife’s neck. "Are you sure you want to do this? You must be exhausted." 

“I am pretty tired,” Amanda conceded, squeezing Liv’s hand. “But I’m not too tired for this.”

Olivia let her hand migrate further down her wife’s body, her fingers slowly moving underneath her underwear and meeting beckoning warmth. The woman reveled in the sights and sounds involved in   
Amanda letting go, relaxing into the loving touch, and trusting her completely.

It didn’t take long for the ADA’s legs to start shaking. It never did. She chuckled lightly, preparing to suggest they move to the bed. But Olivia was enjoying watching her wife through the mirror.

“Lean into me,” the older woman gently instructed, holding Amanda securely against her with her left arm. “I won’t let you fall, I promise.”

And it was a promise she’d never broken. Olivia had never once let her fall, at least not without swearing to catch her at the bottom of the cliff. The safety of the moment was breathtaking, and the blonde eagerly surrendered to it. 

Amanda knew that when she boiled everything down, this was all that mattered. Her wife, her children, having a job she loved, finding purpose—that's how she made the transition from victim to survivor. That's how thriving was possible. As she pondered these things, Olivia holding her close as she always did, she realized this was what the brunette had meant when she promised her there would be life beyond the hard moments, that there would be light beyond the darkness.

This, this was light. 

“Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you.”  
― L.R. Knost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here we are, friends. The end of this story. I really enjoyed writing Something Good, but this story in particular was truly a passion project for me. I’ve loved this journey deeply, and I am so appreciative towards all of you—anyone who’s helped me find typos, given me advice about anything, left a comment, or even read at all. If you haven’t reviewed yet, I would love to hear your thoughts. I take them all into account moving forward.  
> As for what I’m writing next, I have one more chapter of Dirt in the Carpet to write. I also plan on posting a series of one-shots that exist in the In the First Degree universe (things like Amanda going to therapy, the day they first met the twins, Olivia finding out about Alex, etc.) So if you’re interested in that, please feel free to make requests. The other thing is I have an idea for an Alex/Olivia centric story that would take place around the episode “Guilt” in season 3, so let me know if you’re interested in that idea. In the meantime, if you haven’t read Something Good and its one-shots yet, that’s an option.  
> I would love to hear your final thoughts about this story.  
> All the thanks in the world,  
> Gabby


	15. Snippets Posted

Wanted to let you all know that the first In the First Degree one-shot has been posted. Feel free to leave requests and let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: To be continued! Thank you so much for reading! I want to invite you all to take a deep breath; I know it was an intense first chapter.  
> Please feel free to share your thoughts and theories with me. I’m hoping to update in the next week or two with some answers!  
> Love,  
> Gabby


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